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THE BELLES OF SEVENTY-SIX. 




ili::;i!itJi;!i''ilii 




A Boys' Book about Boston. 



BY 

SAMUEL ADAMS DRAKE, 

AUTHOR OF "old LANDMARKS OF BOSTON," " OLD LANDMARKS AND HISTORIC 
FIELDS OF MIDDLESEX," " NOOKS AND CORNERS OF THE 
NEW-ENGLAND COAST," ETC. 



BOSTON: 
ROBERTS BROTHERS. 



cixr^j 



9 



Copyright, 1881, 
By Samuel Adams Drake. 



University Press : 
John Wilson and Son, Cambridge. 



CONTENTS. 



I. 

THE FIRST INHABITANTS. 

PAGE 

The Indians. — Anecdotes illustrating their Manners and Cus- 

tunis. — English OT. Indian Hospitality. — Indians at Boston . 7 

II. 

THE PURITANS HANG UP THEIR HATS. 

The First Settlers of Boston. — Who they were. — Winthrop's 
Company. — Their Location. — Early Houses. — Streets. — 
Government, etc 19 

III. 
OLD BOSTON NOTIONS. 

Drumming for Recruits. — Night Watchmen. — Taverns. — An Un- 
lighted Town. — Mode of Address. — Social Distinctions. — 
Slaves. — Sunday Observances. — Church Music. — Punish- 
ments. — Games. — Curious Regulations. — Education. — Old 
Superstitions. — Religious Intolerance. — Military Customs. — 
Arms, Armor, and Dress. — Method of Voting. — Male and 
Female Dress. — Money. — Household Furniture and Domestic 
Utensils. — A Puritan Dinner-Table 28 

IV. 
FORT HILL, AN INTERLUDE. 

The King takes away the Charter. — His New Governor. — The 
kind of Man Sir Edmund Andros was. — Fort Hill. — The iSth 
of April, 16S9. — The Bostonians rise in Arms. — Andros's 
Government overthrown. — The New or Province Charter . . 52 

V. 
LIBERTY TREE. 

Travelling to Town over the Neck. — Old Ways of Travel. — Enoch 
Brown's House. — The Old Fortifications. — Liberty Tree and 
Liberty Hall. — Hanging in Effigy. — The Stamp Act. — Rev. 
Mather Byles 61 



2 CONTENTS. 

VI. 
A TEMPEST IN A BIG TEAPOT. 

PAGE 

The Old South Meeting. — The Tea Party. — Boston Harbor a 
Teaoot.— Who Samuel Adams was. — Street Signs and Sym- 
bols'—The Province House and Governor General Gage's.— 
Boston to be starved into Submission 73 



VII. 
FROM THE OLD CORNER TO KING STREET. 

Anne Hutchinson. —The King's Chapel. — An Old-Tirne Congre- 
gation. — Whig and Tory. — King's Chapel Burial Ground. — 



Court House and Prison. — Legal Punishments. — The Town 
House. — A Provincial Congress takes the place of the House 
of Representatives 



88 



VIII. 
THE ROYAL BEAST SHOWS HIS TEETH. 

Arrival o£ the King's Own. — Camp on the Common. — The Sur- 
roundings. — The Great Elm. — Paddock's Mall. — Earl Percy 
and his Quarters. — John Hancock and his Mansion. — A 
Boston Rebel. — Officers frightened by Dor-beetles .... 96 



IX. 

A GARRISONED TOW^N. 

More Troops. — Bayonet Rule in Boston.— Paddock's Guns carried 

off. — A Yankee Marksman " ^ 



X. 

/ANEUIL HALL AND NEIGHBORHOOD. 

Rebellion Advancing. — Brattle Street Church. —The Cradle of 
Liberty.- The Boston Militia of '75. —Spirited Act of the 
'Ancients.'— Boston Stone. — Ben Franklin astonishes the 
Governor. — The Green Dragon. — Pope Day Celebration.— 
Hatching Treason. — Gage's Plans frustrated. — Warren and 
Revere. — The Ride to Lexington ^^^ 



CONTEXTS. 3 

XL 
THE OLD NORTH END. 

PAGE 

Christ Church. — A Visit to Copp's Hill. — The Mathers. —A 
Distinguished Family. — Charter Street. — Sir \Vm. Phips. — 
Captain Gruchy and his Secret Gallery. — The North Bat- 
tery. — North Square. — Old Houses. — Sir Charles Frank- 
land's. — Governor Hutchinson's. — Odd Family Names. — 
Mother Cary 139 

XIL 
TO ARMS! TO ARMS! 

Open Rebellion. — Exodus from Boston. — Daring of the Provin- 
cials. — Dorchester vs. Charlestovvn Heights. — A British 
Council of War. — A Rebel Ditto. — The First Move. — The 
Right of Command. — The Stolen March to Breed's Hill . . 156 



XIIL 
THE SWORD OF BUNKER HILL. 

Gage sends Howe to storm the Heights. — The American Defences. 
— The Redoubt and Rail Fence. — Putnam takes Command. — 
Stark, Warren, Prescotr. — What Each did. — Charlestown 
burned. — The Battle 169 

XIV. 
YANKEE DOODLE. 

Exhaustion on Both Sides. — Intrenching. — Prospect Hill. — The 

Provincial Camps 185 



XV. 
THE NEW ENGLAND ARMY. 

The Situation reviewed. — Cambridge. — General Ward's. — The 

College Halls. — President's House 192 



4 CONTENTS. 

■ XVI. 
WASHINGTON. 

PAGE 

Hail to the Chief ! — The Washington Elm. — The Army and its 
Head. — Headquarters. — The Virginia Rifles. — Knox s Mis- 
sion to Lake Champlain. — Lee and Gates. — Church s 1 rea- 
son. —Gov. Oliver's -°3 



XVII. 
TO ROXBURY TOWN. 

Incidents of the Nineteenth of April. — Charles River Redoubts. — 

Col. Thomas Gardner ^~-> 

XVIII. 
ROXBURY CAMP AND LINES. 

Ward's Headquarters. -High Fort. -The i'^'^'\'%^'°'':^;-^lr'''- 
ing-House Hill. — Roxbury Fort. — General rhomas.— How 
Cannon-balls were obtained from the Enemy. — 1 he Warren 
Homestead. -Burying Ground Redoubt. — Skirmishing on the 
Neck ^^° 



XIX. 

ORDERS OF THE DAY. 

Dorchester Heights to be occupied. - Preparations. - Boston 

bombarded. — The Beginning of the End -45 

XX. 

THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

The March to Dorchester. — Governor Shirley's.— Five Corners.— 
The Americans carry their Forts with them. — Rufus Putnam. 
-Consternation of the British. — The Fifth of March.— Wash- 
ington in the Field.— The British must go. — St. Patricks 
Day in the Morning -250 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



The Belles of Seventy-six . Frontispiece 

Indian Wigwams S 

Ancient Windmill 9 

Indian Execution 10 

Indian Sachem 13 

The Puritans hang up their Hats . 19 
Old King's Chapel, Beacon Hill, 

and Beacon 23 

Old Corn Mill 2:; 

The Beacon 24 

Old Curtis Homestead .... 25 

Old Cocked Hat, Dock Square , 26 

Franklin's Birthplace 27 

Helmets of the Puritan Time . . 28 

Watchman 29 

The Stocks and Whipping-post . ^6 

The Pillory 

Soldier of 1630 42 

Colony Flag 42 

Mutilating the Flag 43 

The Old Sword - , 

Spinning-wheel ^- 

Wool-wheel -5 



Hand-loom 



46 



Pine-tree Shilling ^7 

The Chimney-corner 4S 

Dinner-time ^9 

Puritan Handwriting rj 

British Officer, 16SS 54 

The Boston Truck 61 

Chaise of 1775 6-' 

Equestrians, Revolutionary Period 64 

Market Woman, 1775 ... . 65 



PAGE 

Lib;rty Tree 66 

Gentleman of the Revolutionary 

. Oay 69 

Old Hollis Street 71 

A Tempest in a Big Tea-pot . . 73 

Old South 7^ 

Broken Tea-chest 75 

Revere's Picture of Boston in 176S 79 
The Heart and Crown .... So 

Three Doves Si 

The Blue Ball 82 

" Plow shall I get through this 

world ? " S2 

Bunch of Grapes S3 

Franklin's Press S3 

The Province House 84 

The Old Corner 8S 

King's Chapel 90 

A Hackney Coach 91 

Shirley Arms gi 

Old State House 93 

Speaker's Desk 94 

Old Brick Church 94 

Trophies of Bennington .... 96 
Regimental Ensign taken at York- 
town 99 

Sentry Go 100 

The Great Elm 102 

The Great Mall, Haymarket, and 

Theatre in 1798 103 

Hancock Mansion 107 

British Lines on Boston Neck . . iii 
The Guns "Hancock and Adams" 113 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Brattle Street Church .... 
Cannon-ball in the Window . . 

Faneuil Hall 

Lottery Ticket 

New Faneuil Hall 

Boston Stone 

Green Dragon Tavern .... 
Sign of the Green Dragon . . . 

Christ Church 

Tomb of the Mathers .... 

The Glasgow 

The Old House in Ship (North) 

Street 

Frankland's House 

The Hutchinson Mansion . . . 
Swords of Revolutionary Generals 
Heights of Charlestcwn from the 

Navy Yard, 1826 . . . 
Bunker Hill Monument . . . 
Provincial Cartridge-box 
Boston from Breed's Hill, 1791 
Relics from Warren's Body 



PAGE 

119 
120 
121 
122 

125 

126 

129 
130 
140 

143 
144 

150 

151 

152 

156 

165 
169 

174 
179 
18-, 



PAGE 

American Siege Gun and Carriage 1S5 

Hessian Flag 19° 

Old Mile-stone 192 

Holden Chapel 195 

Harvard Hall 197 

Massachusetts Hall 19S 

The President's House .... 200 

The Washington Elm, Cambridge 206 

Early American Flag 208 

Washington's Headquarters . . 211 

Fort on Cobble Hill 212 

Flag of Morgan's RiHes . . . . 213 

Flag of the Body-guard . ... 217 

Lieutenant-Governor Oliver's . . 222 

High Fort, Roxbury 231 

The Parting Stone 233 

Meeting-House Hill, Roxbury, 

'79.0 233 

The Parsonage 234 

Roxbury Fort, from a Powder-horn 237 

The Warren Homestead ... 241 

Governor Shirley's Mansion . 251 




AEOUND THE HUB. 



THE FIRST IXHABITAXTS. 



A LL travellers agree that the way to see a country is 
to walk through it. You ride because the distance 
is long, or because you are in a hurry. But by walking 
you get the habit of observation. You learn to use your 
eyes. You are surprised to find common things growing 
interesting, or curious, or instructive. You see. 

A traveller, who lioasted of having visited many coun- 
tries, got a friend to ask for him an introduction to the 
celebrated Humboldt. The gentleman at once called on 
the Baron. 

" My friend," began the mediator, " claims to be a fel- 
low-traveller. He, too, has been all over the world." 

"Yes," replied the Baron, "and so has his trunk." 



8 



AROUND THE HUB. 



We will, at any rate, try not to imitate this traveller, 
whose trunk was considered quite as travelled as himself. 

One thing more. Were we going to Eome, we should 
first " read up " a little, as we say, in order to gain such 
general knowledge as might serve us a good turn when we 
arrived in the Eternal City, ^^^lat was learned in this 
way would be a great help in getting over the ground 
easily and quickly. Let us do this now. Let us take 
a long look back over the two hundred and fifty years 
vmiting us with the time when our history is mute. Two 
centuries and a half ! That does seem a long time. Yet, 
compared with the ages of which we know nothing, it 
is a mere fragment, a scrap, a tick of the clock. 

The Indians, whose history we do not know, seem to 
have preferred living on the mainland. At any rate, the 
first white settlers in Boston Bay found none inhabiting the 

peninsula either 



of Shawm ut or 
Mattapan, and a 
few only lived at 
Mishawum: these 
were the Indian 
names of Boston, 
Dorchester, and 
Charlestown. 

But many skulls 
and human bones 




INDIAN WIGWAMS. 



THE FIRST INHABITANTS. 9 

were dug up on the eminence now called Pemberton 
Square,^ in Boston, at a very early day, and the inhabi- 
tants believed them to be Indian remains. 

These Indians mingled freely with the whites, showing 
a friendly disposition. Their numbers had been so greatly 
diminished by sickness that the well-armed English were 




ANCIEXT WINDMILL. 

far too numerous to fear them as neighbors. But care 
was taken not to offend them. They came and went 
freely. They were amazed at the arts and implements 
of the white men. They never tired of looking on and 
seeing how dexterously these English carpenters handled 

^ Formerly Cotton Hill. It was so named from one of the earliest 
ministers of Boston, Rev. John Cotton, who lived there. Look in the 
biographical dictionaries for notices of this eminent divine. 



10 



AROUND THE HUB. 



their saws and wielded their axes. But they were not at 
all fond of work themselves. In fact, among the Indians, 
all the hard labor was performed by women. The men 
considered it degrading. 

We are told that the first ship they saw was supposed 
to be a floating island, — the masts, trees ; the sails, white 
clouds ; the artillery, thunder and lightning. When they 
attempted to go to this island the cannon terrified them so 
that they fled into the woods. 

"So big walk! So big speak! By and by kill!" 
they cried out in their terror. 

The first windmill they saw beating the air with its 
long arms, tliey were afraid to approach. They believed 

the first ploughman turn- 
ing the sod to be a wiz- 
ard. 

The manners and cus- 
toms of this people are 
very curious and very in- 
teresting, but we can only 
stop to relate one or two 
of their peculiarities. 

They had laws which 
w^ere strictly observed. If 
one of them committed a crime, or proved a coward in 
time of war, he w^as either driven from the tribe in dis- 
grace, or, if the offence was too flagrant for this punish- 




IXDIAN EXECUTIO:. 



THE FIRST INHABITANTS. 11 

ment, suffered death. In this case, the prisoner, securely 
bound, was led forth from the village, and dispatched Ijy 
the stroke of a tomahawk. 

Touching the care used to keep on good terms with the 
Indians, Governor Dudley^ told this droll anecdote to a 
sea-captain who visited him. 

One day, while a carpenter was cutting down a tree, 
and a crowd of Indians stood around, watching every hlow^ 
with the greatest attention, the tree fell on one of them 
who did not get out of the way, killing him on the spot. 
The other Indians set up a great howling over the dead 
body, while the frightened carpenter ran and hid himself 
to escape their vengeance, for they foolishly thought 
him to blame for the death of their companion. The Eng- 
lish tried to persuade them the carpenter was not at fault ; 
but nothing short of his death would pacify them. They 
demanded that he should be given up to them for execu- 
tion. Seeing them thus enraged, and fearing that they 
might fall upon and destroy them, in revenge, the English 
finally promised to hang the unlucky carpenter them- 
selves. The Indians were told to come the next morning, 
and they would see him hanging from a particular tree. 
But the carpenter being a young and lusty fellow, and 
very useful, they concluded they, could not spare him, and, 
there being in the fort an old bedridden weaver, who had 

1 For an account of Governor Joseph Dudley, consult the History 
of the Town of Roxburv. 



12 AROUND THE HUB. 

not long to live, he was taken out to the tree and quietly 
hanged in the room of the carpenter, to the entire satisfac- 
tion of the Indians, who did not detect the cheat and who 
became good friends again.^ 

But in Butler's " Hudibras," you may read a story much 
like this in verse. Here it is : — 

" Our brethren of New England use 
Choice malefactors to excuse, 
And hang the guihless in their stead ; 
Of whom the clnuxhes have less need. 
As lately 't happened ; in a town 
There liv'd a cubljler, and but one 
That out of doctrine could cut use, 
And mend men's lives as well as shoes. 
This precious brother having slain, 
In time of peace, an Indian, 
Not out of malice, but mere zeal, 
Because he was an infidel ; 
The mighty Tottipottimoy 
Sent to our elders an envoy, 
Complaining sorely of tlie breach 
Of league, held forth by brother Patch, 
Ao^ainst the articles in force 
Between both churches, his and ours ; 
But they maturely having weigh'd 
They had no more but him o' th' trade, 
A man that serv'd them in a double 
Capacity to teach and cobble, 

1 This is in Captain N. Uring's " Voyages," a rare book. He was 
in Boston in 1709. A story similar to the versified one in Hudil^ras 
is told in Morton's " New English Canaan," thus making three inde- 
pendent sources to which it may be traced. Butler says it is a true 
story. 



THE FIRST INHABITANTS. 



13 



Resolv'd to spare him ; yet to do 
The Indian Hoghan Moghan too 
Impartial justice, in his stead did 
Hang an ohl weaver that was bedrid." 



This story may cause a laugh, but I do not see that it is 
either more improbable or more atrocious than the present 
practice in war of killing a certain number of innocent 
prisoners for the same number who may be executed by 
your enemy. 

The head men among the Indians were called sachems, 
or sagamores. It may be interesting to jot down the 
names of a few of these Massachusetts sagamores, — 
Obquamhud, Canac- 
ocome, Obbatinewat, 
Nattawakunt, Caw- 
katant, Chikataljut, 
Quadaquina, Hutta- 
moiden, Apannow. 

One more anec- 
dote will serve to 
illustrate the cute- 
ness of the Indians. 

A gentleman who 
wished to make a 
present of oranges to 
a lady, sent them 
with a letter by his ^^^^^^ g^cg^^_ 




14 AKOUXD THE HUB. 

Indian servant. The letter told how many were sent. 
On the way the fragrant smell of the fruit proved 
too great a temptation for the Indian boy. His mouth 
fairly watered for a taste, but havmg seen his master 
read and write letters, he was possessed with the idea 
that the paper he carried would tell of him if he 
touched the oranges. He therefore put the letter care- 
fully under a stone, and then, going oft' to a distance, 
ate several oranges, feeling perfectly safe. When he came 
to deliver the remainder of the oranges the lady saw by 
the letter that some were missmg. She charged the In- 
dian with the theft, but he for some time stoutly denied it, 
and asserted that the letter lied ; nor was it until threat- 
ened with punishment that he confessed, so certain was 
he that he had put the letter where it could not see 
him. 

This anecdote shows that the Indians were no fools. 
Their civilization, as we term it, only began with the com- 
ing of the white people, but they were far from being an 
inferior race, like the Esquimaux, the Patagonians, or the 
Digger Indians of California. They lived in rude, conical 
huts of bark, called wigwams. They went almost naked, 
even in winter. They lived l)y fishing and hunting ; and 
although their tools to build themselves canoes, their 
spears to take fish, and their arrows to kill game were all 
made of stone, they were very expert indeed in the use of 
them. "We can now see these things carefully preserved 



THE FIRST INHABITANTS. 15 

in the cabinets of our museums, and the skill with which 
they are made excites our wonder.^ 

The Indians believed in a god of evil, as well as of good, 
to whom they ascribed all their calamities, such as death, 
pestilence, or famine. To this evil spirit, therefore, they 
prayed that he would cease from hurting them. Their 
great and good spirit, or Manitou, was the god of peace, 
plenty, and happiness. To him they prayed for a con- 
tinuance of these blessings. But they most feared, and 
perhaps prayed oftenest to, the evil spirit, or devil. 

They made offerings to their gods the same as other 
ancient peoples, — the Greeks, for instance. They believed 
the earth had been formed of a grain of sand. Their 
heaven was beyond the highest mountain-peaks, which 
they dared not ascend for fear of offending the god who 
dwelt among them. And what is more curious still, they 
had a tradition of the deluge which had drowned all the 
inhabitants of earth, except one powaw and his wife, who 
escaped by climbing to the top of the "White Mountains. 
When the waters subsided they descended again to earth, 
and from them came all subsequent peoples. 

The Indians possessed many virtues which, uncivilized 
as they were, made them superior in some things to the 
more civilized Pale-faces. For example, they were ex- 
tremely hospitable. The weary stranger was considered 

1 Go to the Museum of Xatural History and look at the stone 
pestles, axes, arrow-heads, etc. 



16 AROUND THE HUB. 

the guest of tlie whole village into which he had strayed. 
All vied with each other in showing him kindness. If 
hungry, they fed him ; if cold, they warmed him ; and the 
next day they guided him on his journey, — and all with- 
out reward. 

But English hospitality was a puzzle to them. So one 
of them asked an Englishman to explain it. "If I go 
into a white man's house," he said, "and ask for victuals 
and drink, they say, ' Where is your money ? ' And if I 
have none they say, ' Get out, you Indian dog ! ' " 

In common civility, and in what are called "good man- 
ners," these untutored beings could often give their white 
neighbors a lesson. Did an Indian come into a town he 
would either be surrounded or followed by a gapmg crowd. 
All this made him feel very ill at ease. He considered it 
great rudeness. When a stranger came into an Indian 
village no one intruded upon him. He was allowed to go 
on his way without interruption. The Indians satisfied 
their curiosity by watching him from a distance. 

Upon the death of a warrior of the tribe, he was buried 
in a sitting posture ; and his pipe and tomahawk, with 
any trinket he may have possessed, were placed near him. 
For even the savage believed in a resurrection ; though 
heaven was to him a land of plenty, abounding in game, _ 
which he would again hunt in his own proper form. So 
his weapons were placed where he could grasp them. 

The Indians were very grave, attentive, and courteous. 



THE FIRST INHABITANTS. 17 

Even if they did not l^elieve or could not understand a 
thing, they took care not to let it be seen. One of our 
ministers having explained to them the history of the 
Christian religion, — the fall of our first parents by eating 
an apple, the coming of Christ, his miracles, and suffer- 
ings, — an Indian orator stood up to thank him. 

"What you have told us," he began, " is all very good. 
It is indeed bad to eat apples ; it is better to make them 
all into cider." 

He then told the missionary, in his turn, an ancient 
tradition, handed down through many generations of 
his people, how two starving hunters, having killed a 
deer, were about to satisfy their hunger when they saw 
a beautiful young woman descend out of the clouds and 
stand beside them. They were at first afraid, but taking 
courage offered the spirit the choicest portion of their 
meat. She tasted it, and then, tellino; them to return in 
thirteen moons to the same spot, vanished. They re- 
turned, as she bade them, at the appointed time. Where 
the good spirit had touched the ground with her right 
hand they found maize ; with her left, beans ; and where 
she stood was the luxuriant tobacco-plant. 

The missionary plainly showed his disgust and disbe- 
lief in this idle tale, saying to the Indian, " What I de- 
livered to you were sacred truths ; but what you tell me is 
mere fable, fiction, and falsehood." 
The offended Indian gravely replied : 

2 



18 ABOUND THE HUB. 

" My brother, it seems your friends have not well in- 
structed you in the rules of common civility. You saw 
that we, who understand and practise these rules, believed 
all your stories : why do you refuse to believe ours ? " 

But we must now take leave of these original inhabi- 
tants of Boston. They have all long since gone to their 
Happy Hunting Grounds, beyond the Great White Moun- 
tains. By and by, except for our books, their very exist- 
ence would be doubted. Providence or destiny has swept 
them from the land where their fathers dwelt. By and 
by, seeing a strange figure upon the great seal of the State, 
some youth will ask his father: — 

" What is that outlandish-looking being ? " 

" That ? Oh, that is an Indian." 

" Is it a man ? " 

" Certainly, it is a man." 

" Where is he ? " 

" God knows, my son." 

" Where does he live ; where is his country ? " 

" He has no country." 

" But why, then, is he on the seal ? " 

" Ah ! It was put there when he was strong, and we 
weak. This broad land was once his. We took it from 
him. The seal is now the only thing we have to remem- 
ber him by." 




IL 



THE PURITANS HANG UP THEIR HATS. 



^ I ^HE English people who came with (.loveriior Win- 
throp first located upon the peninsula of Mishawum, 
wliicli they called Charlestown, probaljly in linnor of 
Charles I., their sovereign.^ They found here a single 
white man named Thomas Walford, living very peaceably 
and contentedly among the Indians. They also discovered 
that the peninsula of Shawmut had one solitary white 
inhabitant whose name was William Blackstone. They 
could see every day the smoke curling above this man's 
lonely cabin. He, too, was a Puritan clergyman, like 
many of those who had now come to make a home in the 
New World, free from the tyranny of the English bishops. 
Still another Englishman, Samuel Maverick by name, had 

^I say "probal)ly" because the river Charles had previously 
received this name from Captain John Smith in honor of the same 
prince. It was the first town here to receive an English name after 
Plvmoutli. 



20 AROUND THE HUB. 

built a house, and with the help of David Thompson, a 
fort which mounted four small cannon, truly called " mur- 
therers," and was living very comfortably on the island 
that is now East Boston. And again, by looking across 
the bay, to the south, the smoke of an English cottage, on 
Thompson's Island, was probably seen stealing upward to 
the sky. So that we certainly know these people were 
the first settlers of Boston.^ 

But scarcity of water, and sickness, which soon broke 
out among them, made the settlers at Charlestown very 
discontented. They began to scatter. Indeed, this penin- 
sula was too small properly to accommodate all of them 
with their cattle. Therefore good William Blackstone, 
with true hospitality, came in their distress to tell them 
there was a fine sprhig of pure water at Shawniut, and to 
invite them there. Probably his account induced quite a 
number to remove at once ; while others, wishing to make 
farms, looked out homes along the shores of the mainland, 
at Medford, Xewtown (Cambridge), "Watertown, and Eox- 
bury. A separate company of colonists also settled at 
]\Iattapan, or Dorchester. The dissatisfaction with Charles- 

^ These may be the same persons we see referred to by the new 
comers as "old planters." But six years before the arrival of Win- 
throp's company, quite a small colony had begun settlement at 
Nantasket (Hull). Among them were Roger Conant, John Lyford, 
and John Oldham, all conspicuous in the early annals of Plymouth 
and Massachusetts. Plymouth lays a tax on this little plantation of 
"Xatascot" in 1628, and Mrs. Thompson, at Squantmn, and Mr. 
Blackstone are also taxed. 



Becikiit isnaiiBBC. liert. and litt Toinisisr "na- rrnr Tpmnr^ 

r:n*s¥ TT»f- 23T2r __ ... . . __ ^ v _~ "iT^ 

tViit imt of seniemant srryn T^rmr gniit toiidll iL 

Samt imie Trm^ ^QsiKed. r'n.—inr ttVuix lis fepsrsirni 
TPS* BKaffijj gotrg OIL Dai OK- ibos viir "^LmiL mmiTElij 
t»r =35^^ ' Trie "Ziif- iac. L-irciL nuik^ hi :ih=ir iimin~ 

met Einnni: iit^ "__ ~ r : — : ^"li-er^ 2l sziies:- 

CE jsnd nrfw sniQi^c. pjt TT ammrrr •_ 3m "vTasiiinrT-jni. eul 

?^inr n^stssl S? VH5 "nrn^L^ rr: " - s: Tit 



ana "siaE. -Ht^ -fdfe. iL :3: T^m - Ari>:l 



22 AROUND THE HUB. 

Although the chief men of the colony contmued for 
some time yet to favor the plan of a fortified town farther 
inland, Boston had now become too firmly rooted, and the 
people too unwilling, to make a second change of location 
practicable, or even desirable. So this project was aban- 
doned, though not before high words passed between 
Winthrop and Dudley about it. The governor then 
removed the frame of his new house from Cambridge, or 
Newtown, to Boston, setting it up on the land between 
]Milk Street, Spring Lane, and Washington Street. One 
of the finest springs being upon his lot, the name Spring 
Lane is easily traced. The people first located themselves 
within the space now comprised between Milk, Bromfield, 
Tremont, and Hanover Streets, and the water, or, in general 
terms, upon, the southeasterly slope of Beacon Hill. 
Pemberton Hill soon became a favorite locality. The 
North End, including that portion of the town north of 
Union Street, was soon built up by the new emigrants 
coming in, or by removals from the South End, as all the 
town south of £liis district was called. In time a third 
district on the north side of Beacon Hill grew up, and was 
called the West End. And in the old city these general 
divisions continue to-day. 

Shawmut, we remember, was the first name Boston had. 
Now the settlers at Charlestown, seeing always before 
them a high hill topped with three little peaks, had 
already, and very aptly too, we think, named Shawmut 



THE PURITANS HANG UP THEIR HATS. 



23 




Trimoiintain.i But when they began to remove there 
they called it Boston, after a place of that name in Eng- 
land, and because they 
had determined before- 
hand to give to their chief 
town this name. So says 
the second highest person 
among them, Deputy Gov- 
ernor Thomas Dudley. 

The settlers built their 
first church on the ground 
now covered by Brazer's 
Building, in State Street, old king's chapel, beacon hill, 

. . AND BEACON. 

It IS a pity that no pic- 
ture has handed down to us the appearance of this prim- 
itive edifice, in which Wilson and 
Cotton preached, and Winthrop and 
Vane went to meeting. Directly in 
front of the meeting-house was the 
town market-place. Where Quincy 
Market is was the principal landing- 
place. The Common was set apart 
as a pasture-ground and training- 
old corn mill. field. A ferry was established be- 

^ The location of old " Treamoimt," now Treniont Street, around 
the base of the three-peaked hill, at a very early day, confirms this 
view of the name Trimountain. 




24 



AROUND THE HUB. 



7* 



tween Boston and Charlestown ; a rude battery was erected 
upon Castle Island ; a wind-mill, to grind corn, upon the 
hill at the north end of the town. A beacon was set 
up on the summit of Trimountain, and a fort upon the 
southernmost hill of the town. From this time these hills 
took the names of Windmill, Beacon, and Fort Hills. 
The last has now wholly disappeared, 
having been dug down some years 
since ; and the first very soon changed 
its name to Copp's Hill. 

The fort on the island was designed 
to defend the town from attack by sea, 
the beacon to give notice to the neigh- 
boring towns of the approach of an 
enemy. If by day, a flag hoisted upon 
it was the signal; if by night, a fire 
lighted in an iron cage at the top, filled 
with pitch and light wood, could be 
seen from a great distance. In either 
case, the country people were to take 
their arms and repair to the town as 
fast as possible. 

Having thus seen Boston settled and 
equipped for defence, let us now inquire 
a little how the people lived, and what manner of folk 
they were. 

The first houses were naturally very poor and humble 




^*iS^ 



THE BEACON. 



THE PUEITAXS HAXG TP THEIB ILVTr: 



:^o 



dwellings. They were hurriedlj put together for inn Tin e- 
diate shelter. It is believed some of the poorer sort of 
peopla lived for a time in wigwams, which the Indians 
taught them how to build. Some cabins were of logs, 
with a thatch of rushes for a rool Instead of brick 
chimnevs, they laid sticks crosswise, one upon another, 
smearing them inside and out with clav. All were of 




OLD CURT La HOME-STZAD. 



wood, and probably few if any had more than one story. 
The old Curtis Homestead, near Boylston Station, iu Bos- 
bury, is a good specimen of these early houses. And what 
makes this house remarkable is that it has always been 
occupied by the Curtis family. "We judge that the best 
house in all these plantations, as they were called, was 
the one built at Eoxburv bv Govenir,T Dudlev, because 



26 



AROUND THE HUB. 



Winthrop scolded him sharply for having a wainscot of 
clapboards mside, and some little tasteful ornament out- 
side, as setting an example of pride and extravagance. 
Houses with gables, like the old Cocked Hat in Dock 

Square, and 
,--^^ ^^'- _ houses with 

the upper 
story pro- 
jecting, like 
Franklin's 
birthplace, 
were built 
very early ; 
but this jut- 



ting upper 
story was 
not intend- 
ed, as some 
people be- 




OLD COCKED HAT, DOCK SQUARE. 



lieve, to enable the inmates to fire down upon the heads 
of imaginary assailants, or to scald them with boiling 
water. Far from it. They were simply the kind of 
houses these people had been used to live in in Old Eng- 
land. Such chimneys as w^ere then built are a wonder to 
our generation ! They seem more like towers than chim- 
neys. A few specimens of the early architecture may still 
be seen in North, Charter, and Salem Streets. 



THE PURITANS HANG UP THEIR HATS. 



27 



As soon as possible the inhabitants of Boston enclosed 
two large fields, called the Fort Field and the Mill 
Field, in which their cows, goats, swine, and sheep were 
folded, under the charge 
of a keeper. 

Unfortunately the 
streets were from the 
first very crooked indeed. 
They seem to have suc- 
ceeded the foot-paths, 
which, of course, took 
the easiest way over or 
among the hills, without 
regard to whether it 
was, or was not, the 
nearest. Modern Boston 
has spent millions trying to remedy this want of forecast, 
but her ways are still crooked, and crooked they must 
remain. 

The government of town affairs was managed by citi- 
zens, especially appointed for the purpose, called select- 
men ; and this same form of town government is still in 
force throughout New England. So the Puritans deserve 
credit for establishing a good and durable system for 
small communities. 




FRANKLIN S BIRTHl'LzVCE. 




HELMETS OF THE PURITAX TIME. 



III. 



OLD BOSTON NOTIONS. 



T3 KFORE there were any bells in the town, a drum was 
Ijeat at the curfew to warn the people that it was 
bed-time, and to put out their lights. It was also the 
usual signal for the train-bands to get under arms ; the 
drummer, who was regularly chosen for the purpose, 
marching around the town, beating lustily the while. 
The drummers and iifers of the Ancient and Honorable 
Artillery Company still keep up this old custom. The 
martial roll of a drum was certainly a startling and a 
singular call to meeting on the peaceful Sabbath, but it 
was so used, the same as in a camp. 

Some of the rules f(jr keeping order now seem very 
strict, some seem laughable. A town-watch was organ- 
ized, which went aljout the streets crying the hour. Thus, 



OLD BOSTOX NOTIONS. 



29 



in tlie stillness of night, they would bawl out in a loud sing- 
song at some corner, " Twelve o'clock, and all 's well ! " A 
citizen, whose sleep was disturbed by these outcries, in- 
quired if it would not be better for the watch to cry out 
when all was not well, and to let 
well enougli alone. 

Imagine eight stout watchmen, 
in their great watch-coats, with 
staves and lanterns, and walking 
two and two, each night perambu- 
lating every hole and corner of 
the town. Lads could not then 
sit up late with their sweethearts, 
for, if the watch saw lights twink- 
ling after ten o'clock, they were 
required to knock at the door and 
demand tlie reason. If the watch 
saw young men and maidens taking a walk together after 
dark, they could send them home in a hurry to their 
lodgings, or put them under lock and key till morning. 
They could order dancing and singing in a private or 
public house to be stopped. And they visited the tav- 
erns or ordinaries, as they were called, and made the 
landlord shut up his house and turn his noisy guests 
into the street. Nowadays we should hardly submit to 
such things, but they were then thought to be right and 
proper to the good order and decorum of society. 




WATCHMAN'. 



30 AROUXD THE HUB. 

About these taverns. The Puritans certainly hit upon 
a droll way of preventing drunkenness. They licensed 
taverns, and they licensed the sale of liquor. Yes, and 
they made a law fixing the price of a morning dram, too, 
so that the tavern-keeper could ■ be fined for ref usmg to 
sell what the law allowed. So we see they were not 
total abstainers by any means. But this is the way they 
stopped drunkenness. If a stranger went into a tavern 
and called for hquor, a constable followed him in and 
stationed himself at his elbow. "When the constable 
thought the stranger had drank enough, if he asked for 
more, the officer said, " Xo, friend, you can't have it." 
And not another drop could he get. 

But for a long time the town, at night, was wrapped in 
darkness. As soon as it was dark the citizens went to 
bed. Xo other lights shone out of doors except the 
moon or the stars. So not many would venture into the 
streets unless there by necessity, — such as sickness, or 
death, or a fire. There were no pavements, and no side- 
walks. These conveniences had to wait until the town 
grew rich enough to afford them. The people, or some 
of them, had, it is true, been accustomed to such thmgs 
in the old country ; many had lived there in luxury and 
ease ; but here they had first to get over their hard struggle 
to obtam a bare living ; and luxuries, of course, were not 
to be thought of. 

When these people met, they did not call each other 



OLD BOSTON NOTIONS. 31 

Mister and Missis, as we now do, but " Master " and 
" Mistress," ^ if they were above the rank of farmer, 
mechanic, or laborer ; and " Goodman " and " Goodwife " 
if they belonged to either of these classes. 

They did not believe in social equality at all. Society 
was divided into distinct classes, the same as in England, 
and each class insisted upon the distinction that belonged 
to it. Thus, only a man or woman of birth, or holding a 
place in the highest rank of society, was a gentleman or 
a gentlewoman. The terms were then applied to persons 
of gentle birth or breeding, and not to manners, as is the 
case to-day. We find in old records the abbreviation 
" Gent." written only after the names of those entitled 
to it by this old custom. And the custom was long 
scrupulously preserved. Those who were husbandmen, or 
weavers, or carpenters, had their occupation always set 
down after the name. 

In those days a governor, a colonel, a judge, or a min- 
ister must be addressed by his title always, or it would be 
considered ill breeding. We must remember it was the 
day of kings and nobles, lords and ladies, and that these 
colonists were only Englishmen transplanted. They did 
not come over the sea to found a repubhc of equality, but 
a new England. 

^ The word " Dame " was also used, generally when speaking of 
the head of a hoi;sehold ; and in the case of gentle lineage, it was 
" Lady So and So." 



32 AROUND THE HUB. 

Besides these classes were the family servants, male and 
female, whom everybody looked down upon, and who per- 
formed menial laljor of every kind. These were generally 
poor people who wished to emigrate, but not having the 
means so to do, bound or sold themselves for one, two, or 
more years, to pay the expenses of their outfit and passage. 

So we see, at the top of society, the gentleman and 
lady ; in the middle walk, the goodman and goodwife ; 
while the common laborer, if a freeman, still looked down 
a little upon the bond-servant. 

By and by negroes were brought to Boston and sold 
and held as slaves ; and this state of thhigs continued 
until after the Revolutionary AVar. Then, again, a ship- 
load of prisoners of w^ar would be sent over from England, 
and sold for a term of service to such as were in want of 
laborers or farm-hands. All this sounds very strange to 
us, but it is nevertheless all true. 

The people were called to meeting on the Sabbath, as 
we have said, by the drum, and to occasions of public 
ceremony by sounding a trumpet loudly through the town. 
This ancient custom belonged to the days of chivalry, and. 
no proclamation was held to be properly published with- 
out it. The trumpeter was an officer something like the 
modern town-crier, wdio, not many years ago, went through 
the streets ringing a bell, and, when a crowd had collected, 
shoutmg with stentorian lungs a lost child, a political meet- 
ing, or a public auction. 



OLD BOSTON NOTIONS. 33 

Except for sickness, or for actual infirmity, no one was 
allowed to stay away from meeting. And if any one 
spoke disrespectfully of the minister, or used an oath, he 
could, on complaint, be fined. An officer, called a l)eadle, 
was appointed to go about the town and pick up all those 
" stragglers " who were loitering there on the Saljbath. If 
they could not give a good excuse, they were fined for not 
attending divine worship. These same officers, afterwards 
called tithingmen, carried long wands, with which they 
rapped smartly over the bare poll any one who fell asleep 
in meeting during the sermon, and in the same way they 
kept unruly boys in order. As soon as a drowsy citizen 
was seen to nod, down came the staff with a loud thwack 
on his bald pate. Men and women did not then sit to- 
gether as they now do, but each occupied a different side 
of the house. It was not considered seemly for the sexes 
to mingle in public. As the sermons were always long, 
the tithingmen were no doubt kept busy. On the sacred 
desk an hour-glass marked the slow progress of time. 

For a long time neither organ nor mstrumental music 
of any kind was allowed in a Puritan meeting-house. 
The people believed such things sinful. They stood up 
in their places and sang the old psalms, wdiich could 
hardly now be sung with sober faces by any church choir 
in Boston. The psalm was " lined out " (a line read at 
a time) by the deacon, and then repeated by the congre- 
gation. 

3 



34 AROUND THE HUB. 

The Sabbath was aljove all to be kept holy. It began 
at the sunset hour on Saturday and contmued until the 
same time on Sunday. All work ceased. No one was 
permitted to travel on this day except in a case of absolute 
necessity. If a traveller could not reach his destmation 
by sunset of Saturday, he must go no farther than the 
first house where he could obtain accommodation. Any one 
violating the Sabljath by travelling, or being upon public 
highways, except as just stated, was liable to a tine. Such 
is the law of Massachusetts to-day. Every railway train 
or other public conveyance running upon the Sabbath 
breaks this old law. 

The strictness with which the Saljbath was kept by our 
Puritan ancestors caused a joke now and then at their ex- 
pense. It was said that some of the old women would 
not brew Saturdays because the beer would, in course, 
work on the Lord's Day following. 

In common ati'airs the people made use of Scripture 
terms. They called each other " brother " and " sister." 
And really about all the law they had was derived from 
Scripture (the Judaic Law), until the want of written law 
became an evil so great that they were compelled to es- 
tablish a code called the " Body of Libertys," which was 
by general consent alone obeyed. The reason of this long 
neglect was that, some of their customs being in conflict 
with the laws of England, they were afraid to put them 
in writing. But to make such customs operate as laws 



OLD BOSTON NOTIONS. 35 

was equally a violation of the privileges given them l;)y 
the king in their charter. And the king gave and the 
king could take away their charter ; and he finally did 
take it away. 

Still, these were, on the whole, a sober, industrious, and 
God-fearing people. The custom of drinking malt or 
spirituous liquors was general, but drunkenness was con- 
sidered disgraceful, and was punished, sometimes by mak- 
ing the culprit wear the letter " 1) " (for drunkard) in 
scarlet, sewed on over white cloth, upon his l)reast. Idle- 
ness was also punished; so were lying, cheating, scold- 
ing, and other offences which the law does not now reach 
at all. For these minor misdeeds they had the stocks, the 
pillory, and the whipping-post ; for great crimes they had 
the scaffold. 

The stocks, pillory, and whipping-post were usually 
placed in front of the meeting-house, which was commonly 
the town-house and court-house as well. In Boston these 
terrors to evil-doers were for a long time located in Kino- 
now State Street. People ran to see punishment inflicted 
by the lash, or to stare at some miserable creature sitting 
in the stocks, or standing upright in the pillory, as they 
would at any other show. 

Within the century the public whipping-post, appropri- 
ately painted a blood-red, continued to afford its disgusting 
spectacle of daily punishment to the mob, whose coarse 
jeers and shouts frequently drowned the screams of the 



36 



AEOUND THE HUB. 



victims. The scholars of one of the public schools could 
look directly down from their windows upon such scenes as 




THE STOCKri A.Mi Will I'l'l.Xi , -POST. 



this. Thanks to a more enlightened sentiment, they are 
now spared such revolting sights. 

" Here women were taken from a huge cage, in wdiich 



OLD BOSTON NOTIONS. 



37 



they were dragged on wheels from prison, and tied to the 
post with bare backs, on which thirty or forty lashes were 
bestowed. ... A little farther on in the street w^as to be 
seen the pillory, with three or four fellows fastened by the 
head and hands, and standing for an hour in that help- 
less posture, exposed to gross and cruel insult from 
the multitude, who pelted them mcessantly with rotten 
eggs and every repulsive kind of garbage that could be 
collected." ^ 

The place of public execution 
was our beautiful Common, which 
had been from the first set apart as 
a common pasture-ground and train- 
ing-field for all the inhabitants of 
the town. Several Quakers suffered 
the death-penalty here for their 
faith, and w^ere buried beneath its 
green sod. During the British 
armed occupation the Common also 
witnessed military executions ; and 
at least one poor fellow was shot near 
the foot of the Common, I>y a file of his comrades, for de- 
serting the Continental colors. Pirates have also been hung 
on this spot. All these victims lie in unknown graves.^ 




THE PILLORY. 



^ Recollections of Samuel Breck, pp. 36, 37. 

^ The public gibbet was afterwards erected on the Neck, at the 
entrance to the town. 



38 AROUND THE HUB. 

Ill the early days of the colony the authority of a father 
over his children was almost as absolute as it was among 
the ancient Romans. Until a son or a daughter was of age 
the will of a parent was law. Children treated their 
parents with the greatest respect, and their elders with 
studied deference. It was considered forward in them to 
.speak to an older person unless first spoken to. Neither 
a son nor a daughter would have dared to contract an 
engagement of marriage without the knowledge and con- 
sent of his or her own parents. We do not say such 
things may not have happened. Human nature was the 
same then as now, and love laughed at obstacles ; but in 
every way the letter and spirit of the law strongly upheld 
and assisted the parental authority, according to Scripture 
ideas. It is true a father could not sacrifice his sou, like 
Abraham, but his word was law ; and disobedience was 
punishable the same as other offences. ^ 

We find such games as foot-ball, stool-ball, and quoits 
permitted, though not in the streets. Therefore the young 
were not wholly without out-of-door sports. But the 
Puritans abominated dancing, and they regarded dancing 
round a May-Pole as so little short of idolatrous that they 
cut one down that had been erected by some jovial spirits 
near Boston. Stage-plays and instrumental music they 

1 The selectmen had auth(jrity under the colony to order parents 
to l)ind their children as apprentices, or ])ut them out to .service ; and, 
in case of refusal, the town took the children from the charge of the 
parents. 



OLD BOSTON NOTIONS. 39 

abhorred. The possession of cards or dice by a family 
would have brought down upon the owner sharp reproof 
from his minister, as introducing the works of Satan him- 
self into the community. 

No strangers were permitted to live within the town, 
without oivins bonds to save the town harmless from all 
charge for taking care of them.^ Entertaining foreigners, or 
receiving "inmates, servants, or journeymen coming for 
help, in physic or surgery without leave of the selectmen," 
was twenty shillings a week fine. Thus we see these people 
admitted that almost every act and deed should be open 
to public scrutiny. Domiciliary visits have always been 
classed among the most arbitrary acts of a government ; 
saying who a citizen shall or shall not receive into his house, 
as his guest, as an invasion of private rights. But these 
things were submitted to with good grace, although 
strangers sometimes fared badly in Puritan Boston, unless 
they chanced to have letters or friends vouching for their 
religious opinions.^ 

Education was not neglected. Nothing is more credit- 

1 This is quaint. "Also this day (1638), Richard Tuttell, our 
brother, hath undertaken for one Dorothie Bill, a widdowe, a so- 
journer in his house, to discharge the Toune of any charge that may 
befall the Toune for anything about her." 

- And this is pointed. " Iniprymis: It is agreed that noe fm-ther 
allotments shalbe graunted unto any new comers, but such as may 
be likely to be received members of the congregation." Nor were 
inhabitants allowed to sell houses or lands without consent of the 
town authorities ; or even to become inhabitants without such leave. 



40 AROUND THE HUB. 

able to these Bostonians than one of their earliest recorded 
acts entreating Brother Philemon Porniont to become their 
schoolmaster. And not long afterwards Daniel Maude 
is mentioned as being the town pedagogue. 

Signs, omens, and portents were most religiously be- 
lieved in. If a person was charged with murder, he or she 
was made to touch the face of the dead under the belief 
that if guilty the fresh blood would gush forth from the 
wound. This cruel test was applied to Mary Martin. It 
is said the blood flowed forth, and she then confessed her 
crime. Sorcery, witchcraft, the power of malignant touch 
and sight, were also implicitly believed in ; ^ but they also 
were everywhere in Christendom. So the people of New 
England, superstitious as they were, were not more so 
than the rest of the civilized globe. 

Religious toleration had no place in ancient Boston. 
Only members of the congregation were eligible to the 
rights of freemen. No other could hold any office or give 
his vote in town affairs. Those who held aloof were con- 
sidered proper objects of suspicion. Episcopalians were 
given the cold shoulder, although their faith was that of 
the realm of England. But Quakers and Baptists were 
scourged, banished, and imprisoned ; and some of the 
former, as we have related, were even hanged. The Puri- 

^ Refer to your Encyclopajtlia under the article " King's Evil." The 
other forms of superstition are too well established to require an 
authority to be given. The stories told in the old chronicles almost 
surpass belief. 



OLD BOSTON NOTIONS. 41 

tans pleaded the law of self-preservation for inflicting the 
death-penalty. The Quakers pleaded the higher law of 
conscience for coming half way* to meet it.^ 

Fasts and Thanksgivings were early mtroduced as 
special occasions occurred. There is probably no reason 
for observmg the particular day now set apart as Thanks- 
giving Day. The first public fast was ordered to be kept 
February 5, 1631, in consequence of the distress the 
Boston colonists were in for want of food, but a ship 
having arrived with provisions, the day was changed to 
one of thanksgiving. 

Train-bands were quickly formed in the colony. Steel 
caps, or helmets, porselets, or breast and back-piece, gor- 
gets, and possibly other defensive armor, were worn. 
Usually a quilted tunic of undressed leather, called a butf- 
coat, and arrow-proof, was worn underneath the cuirass. 
The arms were the snapchance (a firelock), the matchlock 
(a musket fired by applying a match to the touch-hole), 
pike, halberd, curtal-axe, and sword. Carbines and pistols 
were also in use. Swords were only worn on occasions of 
ceremony, or by military officers when on duty, and not 
as part of a gentleman's dress. 

Speaking of military customs, we are told that on 
general training-days, when all the train-bands repaired to 
the Common, it was the practice for each captain to offer 
up a prayer before beginning to exercise his men. 

^ See the Poet Whittier's "The King's Missive," which is true to 
history. 



42 



AROUND THE HUB- 



Some of the sterner sort of Puritans hated the cross so 
much that they could not even endure the sight of it on 

the flag of England, their 
flag. The sign of the cross, 
made by the ministers 
when performing the rite of 
baptism, was one of their 
grounds of complaint with 
the Church of England. 
They considered it a cere- 
mony of the Church of 
Rome, which they detested. 
Consequently, one day, in 
a fit of anger, or religious 
zeal, or both, John Endi- 
cott cut the cross out of 
SOLDIER OF 1630. the flag with his dagger. 

The more sober and moderate people were badly fright- 
ened at this bold deed, which was in real- 
ity little, if anything, short of treason- 
able. But for some tune afterward no flag 
at all was hoisted over the Castle. In- 
deed, it was seriously talked over whether 
a new flag should be adopted, or the old 
one restored. A smgular compromise, 
however, prevailed. The colony troops were permitted to 
carry colors without the cross ; while, to save appearances, 





COLONY FLAG. 



OLD BOSTON NOTIONS. 



43 




the old flag was again hoisted over the castle walls. The 
headstrong Endicott was censured, and disqualified from 
holding office for a year. Perhaps this, too, was a blind. 

Thus, within a few years after 
colonizing New England, these 
people refused to give up their 
charter when required to do so 
by the king; they made laws 
conflicting with the laws of 
England ; they suspended the 
use of the national flag ; and 
presently they coined money, ^; 
like any independent state. 
None of these things passed 
unnoticed; but the civil wars 
in England postponed the day of reckoning some time 
longer. The reigning monarchs of the House of Stuart 
had their hands full at home. 

Among the Puritan settlers the common method of 
voting was the old Athenian way of holding up the hand. 
Voting by the voice, " Aye," or " No," and voting by ballot, 
were also practised. No names were wiitten on the 
paper ballot. The afiirmative votes had some private 
mark by which the voter could identify it ; the negative 
ones were left blank. The voters passed through a room 
where the magistrates were sitting, dropped their votes 
into a hat, and passed out ; while electioneering went on 
outside pretty much as it does to-day. 



MUTILATING THE FLAG. 



44 



AEOUND THE HUB. 



Some of the governors assumed considerable parade. 
Wintlirop and Vane were seldom seen abroad unattended 

by a guard of hal- 
berdiers or musket- 
eers. Some little 
state was considered 
due to the office,, 
some to the man. 

Simplicity of dress 
prevailed among the 
I people. The wear- 
ing of costly apparel, 
such as gold and silver lace, 
points, embroidered girdles, 
slashed sleeves, and large 
ruffs, was expressly f orljidden. 
Still it was not w4iolly abol- 
ished; for the old portraits of 
the time show that neither 
men nor women were at all 
averse to being painted in 
their finery ; and there are 
instances where people who 
were complained of for dis- 
j (laying some of these forbid- 
den things in public, were 
excused upon proving that 




THE CMJ) SWuKD. 



they could afford such expense. 



OLD BOSTON NOTIONS. 



45 



The high, steeple-crowned hat, a doublet, or tunic, of 
some dark color, confined at the waist by a belt, loose 
trunks or trousers, reaching to the knee and tied, stockings 
of silk or wool, coming up to the knee, with stout shoes, 
was the usual attire of the men ; a liroad, falling collar, 
stiff with starch, completed the dress, and frequently a 
short cloak was worn out of doors. 

Women wore hats similar to those worn by men, gowns 
of woollen stuff, and high-heeled shoes with peaked toes. 
They sometimes, for full dress, wore the slip, or petticoat, 
and the overdress, now so fashionable. Capes, collars, 
and cuffs were also used at the pleasure of the wearer. 
It was thought a very immodest act to expose the neck or 
arms bare. Ornaments for the person, or jewelry, except 
rings, were very rarely seen. 

Marriages were not solemnized by the clergy, but Ijy 
the magistrates. The service was very simple indeed. 
No Puritan maiden would have plighted her troth with a 
ring for the world. Funerals were 
conducted with as little pomj) as 
possible. The mourners followed 
the bier to the grave, stood around 
until it was filled up, and then 
dispersed. 

Nearly every family made its 
own cloth, or at least the yarn for 
the weaver's use. The spinning- spinning-wheel. 




46 



AROUND THE HUB. 




WOOL-WHEEL. 



wheel for cotton, flax, and wool was found in every house, 
and was seldom idle. Habits of industry and economy 
were sedulously mstilled into old 
and young. So while women 
spun, men and boys toiled in the 
fields. It was a continued strug- 
gle with a rigorous climate and 
unfertile soil that made them 
count the cost of everything be- 
forehand. " As empty as a New 
English purse," was a common 
saying. " We cannot live by our 
hands in this country," says Kat Ward.^ 

For a long time silver and gold coins were very scarce, — 
so scarce that wampum, brass farthings, and even musket- 
bullets, were made lawful 
money. Commodities were 
exchanged at fixed values, 
instead of money. But by and 
by the colonists grew bold. 
They usurped the right of the 
crown to coin money, and 
made it themselves from silver 
bullion. King Charles II. was very angry when he heard 
of it, but was graciously pacified, it is said, upon being 
told that the tree embossed on the pieces of silver was 




HAND-LOOM. 



^ Called the Simple Cobbler. Look him up. 



OLD BOSTON NOTIONS. 



47 




PINE-TREE SHILLING. 



the oak in which liis Majesty hid himself when he was a 
hunted fugitive, tlying from the troops of the Parliament. 
A good impression 
of one of the Pine 
Tree Shillings of 
the time is now 
worth twenty dol- 
lars, — about one 
hundred times its 
original value. 

A great many articles of domestic use, such as kitchen 
utensils, furniture, table-ware, etc., may be seen among the 
collections preserved in the Old South. Antique arms, 
portraits, etc., are also carefully treasured here, and in the 
cabinets of the Massachusetts Historical, and the New 
England Historic Genealogical Societies. 

Stoves being unknown, a huge cavern of a fireplace, 
with a brick-oven, sometimes large enough to conceal a 
whole family, performed the family cooking. Into one 
side an iron crane was firmly driven, on which the pot 
simmered and the kettle sung, while the cat purred in a 
snug corner. Andirons supported the blazing logs which 
snapped and spit and hissed, while the joint of meat, with 
a long iron prong, called a spit, thrust through it, was 
emitting a most savory odor. From time to time, the 
spit had to be turned so that the meat might not be 
scorched or underdone. While this was gouig on, the 



48 



AROUND THE HUB. 



cook raked out from the hot embers, and dropped mto her 
apron, a dozen or so of fine, phunp, and mealy potatoes, 
roasted to a " T " ; or perhaps it was a red herring. All 
being ready, she went to the door, and putting the tin 
dinner-horn to her lips, gave the welcome summons to the 
noonday meaL 




THE CHIMNEY CORNER. 

The family sat down around a table, seldom covered 
with a cloth, and furnished only with pewter plates and 
platters, spoons, and mugs instead of china. Sometimes 
there was a little silver, but not often ; sometmies a little 
Holland delft, but more commonly none at all. Earthen- 
ware was generally used, and very soon manufactured by 
the colonists themselves. Beer or cider would be on the 
table, if it was in the cellar. All being seated, the head of 



OLD BOSTON NOTIOiSTS. 



49 



the family, giving a preliminary cough, and castmg his eye 
around the board to see that the young ones' faces were of 
proper length, said grace. 

Sometimes this grace was so long that the younger mem- 
bers of the family grew nervous and fidgety, especially if 
they were very hungry. It is related that Ben. Franklin, 




DINNER TIME. 

when a lad, once asked his father why he did n't say grace 
over the whole barrel of beef or pork, instead of over each 
piece and every day. We can imagine the look old 
Josias Franklin gave him for his question. 

A great deal of the early furniture' was brought over 
from England, and is now highly prized. The high- 



50 ABOUND THE HUB. 

backed chairs, chests of drawers, cradles, tables, tall bed- 
steads, etc., were often quaintly carved, and were very 
strongly made. Pewter or brass candlesticks, sconces 
(branched candlesticks that could be fixed to the wall), 
lighted the good people about the house, or to bed. All 
these articles, if in good condition, now bring fabulous 
prices. Indeed, a great deal of our modern furniture is 
patterned after them. So you see that old things are 
not without value, and that like the magician in the story, 
we are willing to exchange new lamps for old. But how 
the Puritans would have stared at the bare idea ! 

Carpets were not used. The floors were kept well 
scrubbed, and, m the common rooms, well sanded. A 
rug or two was no uncommon thing. But the master of 
every house had his sword, and his Bible, with which he 
wa^ equally familiar. 

I have now shown you a very simple and patriarchal 
community. Neither social, political, or religious equality 
had a place m it. I do not try to make you think them 
perfect, but to represent the Puritan founders of Boston 
as they actually were. Only great courage and fortitude 
could have carried them safely through all their trials. 
Their history is so interesting, and their deeds are so re- 
markable, and of such widespread influence, that no city 
of the world, Eome perhaps excepted, has had so much 
written about it. That interest will never grow less; for 
this handful of exiles really founded not merely a New 



OLD BOSTON NOTIONS. 51 

England, but an empire greater than they could ever have 
imagined ; and the world will always hold them in great 
respect for the success they achieved. But, after all, the 
Dutch founded the great city of this contment. They 
had, it would seem, the better geographical knowledge. 





', PI/ r^'-^-f^'U^^ 



PURITAN HAXDWRITING. 



IV. 

FOET HILL, AN INTERLUDE. 

"VTOW that we know what sort of people our New 
England ancestors were, let us again, after a lapse 
of fifty -six years, look in upon them and note the kind 
of social and political destiny they have worked out for 
themselves. 

By this time nearly all of the original settlers have 
died. A mere handful of white-haired men remain, who 
were themselves lads in their teens when the colonists 
lighted their first camp-fires at Mishawum. But as a 
little leaven leavens the whole lump, so the Puritan idea 
surviving in these men keeps alive the spirit of the 
fathers. That idea is vn-tual independence, both in 
Church and State. 

That idea, smouldering under the ashes of outward 
loyalty, has led to acts which have roused the ire of 
King Charles II., and he, m right kingly wrath, has 
taken away the ancient charter which the colonists re- 
ceived from his royal father's hands. With one stroke 
of the royal pen all the great privileges they have hitherto 
enjoyed are swept away. 



FORT HILL, AN INTERLUDE. 53 

But King Charles is dead. His brother, the Duke of 
York, ascends the throne as James II. Charles was a bad 
man, but James is a bad king. 

Our Bostonians submit with very ill grace to their 
change of condition ; but there is no help for it. The 
new monarch is proclaimed at the tow^n-house with sor- 
rowful and affected pomp, in presence of the eight niDi- 
tary companies, and with volleys of musketry and of 
cannon. The people then disperse to nurse the WTath 
they dare not openly show. 

By and by Sir Edmund Andros, the king's governor, 
comes with a battalion of royal troops and a frigate. 
Tyranny is to be backed up by force. For the first time 
the colonists feel the power they have provoked. 

The frigate anchors in the stream, with its guns cover- 
ing the towii. The troops are quartered in Gibbs' elegant 
stone dwelling on Fort Hill.^ From the very day in 
wdiich he sets foot within the town. Sir Edmund begins to 
grind and oppress the people. In a short time he estab- 
lishes a despotism as intolerable as that of his master in 
England. From dislike the people advance to hatred. 

1 As these were the first regular soldiers ever seen in Boston, they 
were objects of great cui'iosity. They carried guns with a short 
lance fixed in the muzzle. It was, more proper!}*, a dagger. This 
was the first form of the bayonet. It had to be removed in firing ; 
and, as this proved very awkward in action, the French succeeded in 
fixing the weapon to the muzzle, so that the gun coukl be discharged 
with it on. The sabre-bayonet is only a modification of the old 
original bayonet. 



54 



AEOUND THE HUB. 



While Aiidros is thus sowing with free hand the seeds 
of rebellion, news is suddenly brought by a vessel of the 
landing of the Prince of Orange, and that all England 

is in revolt. This news is 
the match to the powder. Sir 
Edmund has been living in 
the magazine. His govern- 
ment vanishes in the explo- 
sion. 

Fort Hill, where the king's 
troops are, is one of the pleas- 
antest eminences with which 
nature adorns the town. If 
it should ever pass into a by- 
word, then, indeed, will a glo- 
rious event cease to have its 
monument.^ The fortress 
stands on the brow of the 
hill, with a battery lower 
down, next the water. It is 
strongly built of timber and 
earth, and mounts heavy can- 
non. It flies the royal stand- 
ard. It is now the castle of tyranny. 

The foot-way leading to the battery is called the Bat- 

1 No place in Boston seems more appropriate for a commemorative 
monument than this. A portion of the wall of the lower battery, 
belonging to a much later period, is to be seen as I write. 




BRITISH OFFICER. 
1688. 



FOliT HILL, AN IXTEKLUDE. 55 

tery-March. This, and every other approach, is com- 
manded by the guns of the fortress. 

The royal seat of government is established in the 
town-house. Sir Edmund and his council meet here. 

But somethmg even more detested is established here. 
Sir Edmund, not being yet able to get into the Puritan 
churches, — none will consent to it, — has the service of 
the English Church performed in the town-house. He 
walks to divine service with a red-coat on one side and 
the captain of the frigate on the other. Pretty soon, 
dropping all disguise, he takes forcible possession of the 
Old South meeting, and has services there, wdiile the 
Puritan congregation smother their wrath and blow their 
frozen fingers outside. They cannot go in until his Excel- 
lency pleases or has finished his prayers. 

Now the first wedding and the first burial ever solem- 
nized or performed with the Episcopal Prayer-Book take 
place in Boston. At the burial of a man named Lillie, 
the Episcopal rector, Katcliffe, attempts but is prevented 
from readmg the burial service by the citizens. 

Sir Edmund is evidently a very short-sighted, as well as 
arbitrary man, or he would use greater discretion in deal- 
mg with this people. But if he has any sagacity, he takes 
care not to show it. To all complamts he has but one 
answer, " Obey ! " 

He told the people that they had forfeited their lands 
with their charter, and must buy them over agam. This 



56 AROUND THE HUB. 

was to squeeze money out of them for himself and his 
creatures. He forbade them to assemble in town-meeting, 
except by his permission. This was to prevent their 
making formal complaint of their wrongs. He would 
not allow an appeal to the king to go out of the colony 
if he could help it ; but Eev. Increase Mather, one of the 
ablest men New England ever saw, did escape m disguise, 
and so got safely out of his clutches to England. 

If in all these things Sir Edmund believed he was 
doing his duty, the people believed they were doing their 
own to rid themselves of him and his despotic rule at 
once and forever. Their ministers told them they were 
domg God's service at the same time. 

The mornmg of the 18th of April, 1689, dawns in Bos- 
ton. This day is to have a glorious ending. 

Boston has now grown to be a town of seven or eight 
thousand souls. It contains about three thousand houses, 
the greater part built of timber covered with shingles ; 
still there are many comely, and for the time, even 
stately, mansions of brick or stone, having gardens, 
orchards, and now and then some attempt at ornament, 
such as a coat-of-arms, carved woodwork, or the like. 
The people are industrious and frugal. They own ships, 
which carry the products of the country all over the 
world. They are now a generation sprung from, and 
really belonging to, the soil ; that is to say, they are 
now Americans. 



FOET HILL, AX INTEKLUDE. 57 

At an early hour the people begin to assemble in the 
streets. Excited and augiy faces are everywhere. Boys, 
armed only with clubs, run about, shouting to each other 
to fight. Some of the men are armed, some unarmed ; 
but presently, as the loud drums give the expected sig- 
nal from street to street, all run for their arms, or their 
rallying points. The quick strokes of church-bells add 
to the uproar. Up go the colors on the beacon, — the pre- 
concerted signal to the surrounding towns. Then all the 
country round, from Dorchester to Eumney Marsh, is in 
a hubbub. 

Forming in haste, the military bands march for the 
town-house. The sword of rebellion is drawn. The per- 
sons and papers of those suspected of too much loyalty 
are seized. Andros, with some of his followers, has taken 
the alarm in season to escape to the fort. The captain 
of the frigate is a prisoner in the hands of the insurgents. 
Joy is in every countenance. By the vociferous huzzas 
we may measure the weight which has thus been lifted 
off the neck of a whole people. 

But the work of the revolution is only half done. The 
fort and tlie frigate together may demolish the town with 
their broadsides. The ship has run up its colors, opened 
its ports, and is ready for action. The lieutenant in com- 
mand swears he will blow the town sky-high. But his 
captain hastily sends him word that if he fires one shot 
these same rebels have promised to kill him ; and he 



58 AROUND THE HUB. 

believes they will perform what they promise. So the 
frigate's guns are as good as spiked. 

Some time is occupied in securing the persons of the 
most obnoxious members of the late government. A 
company of soldiers escort the old governor, Sunon 
Bradstreet, to the town-house, where all the principal 
men, civil and military, are assembled. It is resolved 
to summon the fort to surrender, and the demand is 
accordingly made ; but Sir Edmund returns a scornful 
refusal. 

Expecting now a desperate and* bloody resistance from 
the fortress, seconded by the frigate, several hours pass by 
before preparations to attack it are completed. Several 
thousand men are in arms in King Street, waitmg impa- 
tiently for the order to march. But the want at this 
critical moment is not men, it is a leader. At this junc- 
ture, when the boldest hesitate, Captain John Nelson, a 
young gentleman of the town, gallantly puts himself at 
the head of the soldiers. It is about four in the after- 
noon when the advance begins. 

Dividing in two columns, one body approaches the rear 
of the fortress, while another moves toward the water- 
battery. Instead of making any resistance, the royal 
soldiers, abandoning the battery, run in confusion up the 
hill to the fort. The sconce, or battery, is immediately 
occupied by our men, and its guns trained upon the fort 
itself. 



FORT HILL, AX INTERLUDE. 59 

This success happens m the nick of time. It pre- 
vents Sir Edmund from escaping on board the frigate, 
wliich he was just preparing to do. 

All bemg ready for a final and decisive assault. Captain 
Nelson now demands, a second time, the surrender of the 
fort. Its guns are double-shotted with grape, to sweep the 
hill. To the surprise of all, the demand is acceded to. 
The gates are thrown open, the insurgents march in. Sir 
Edmund and his retinue, including " that devil Ran- 
dolph," as he is called, deliver their swords, the garrison 
is disarmed, and the revolution successfully ended. 

This has been the most tumultuous day Boston has ever 
witnessed. 

The Bostonians have some days of anxiety and excite- 
ment, until a shi]) sails up the harbor bearing the welcome 
news that William and Mary have been proclaimed King 
and Queen of England. Then, and not till then, did they 
breathe freely. They resume, provisionally, their old form 
of government, the same as before their charter was taken 
away. Bradstreet, the aged governor, is ninety years old. 
He is the last of the Puritans, the living link between 
yesterday and to-day. 

In reorganizing the government one man asks nothing 
and gets nothing. 

Captain John Nelson, the man of the hour, is left out 
in the cold. Wliy ? He is an Episcopalian. 

Thus we see that religious tolerance has made no great 



60 AROUND THE HUB. 

progress in fifty-nine years. Already Quakers had been 
banged. Tbe Bostonians bad only permitted those Epis- 
copalians, who were their fellow-citizens, to bold religious 
worship, backed by tbe order of King James, supported by 
the authority of Andros. They would not sell a foot of 
land on which an Episcopal church might be built. How 
singular it seems that religious toleration first came 
through a tyrannical and arbitrary government, — so arbi- 
trary that the people rose as one man to put it down. 

As soon as affairs at home were a little settled, King 
William granted the colony a new charter. But it is not 
the old one, as the people had fondly hoped. He is going 
to appoint the governor, deputy-governor, and secretary, 
himself, — all the executive officers. The name of " Prov- 
ince " is substituted for that of " Colony." The Assistants 
are now called Councillors. Some privileges remain in 
the people ; but the charter of King William, the fruit of 
the revolution, reduces them to a condition of absolute 
subjection to the throne. The " Governor and Company 
of the Massachusetts " are no more. 

And this is what Fort Hill commemorates, — the 
dethronement of the House of Stuart, the loss of the 
ancient charter, and an iron curb on the independent 
spirit which had steadily grown and flourished under it. 










THE BOSTON TRUCK.. 



V. 



LIBERTY-TREE. 



TN the year 1646 a man living on the southern skirt of 
the town planted a young elm-tree. 

This was the period of the civil war in England, in 
which England lost a crown but gained a head. But we 
do not know that this had anything whatever to do with 
the tree. In all probability, the man simply planted it for 
its shade. 

Let us say that this tree has been growing one hundred 
and twenty odd years. Trees were supposed by the an- 
cients to talk : let us go and see what this one has to tell. 

We will imagine ourselves in the Boston of Eevolution- 
ary times, rebuilding and repeopling it as far as we may. 
We shall step right into the period most interesting to the 
great nations of modern times their history has to tell. 
For all Europe must feel and be disturbed by an uprismg 



62 AROUND THE HUB. 

of the American colonies. All eyes are therefore turned 
to Boston, where the revolt is centred. Already the great- 
est English statesmen are saying, " Oh, if we only had not 
pushed these Americans too far ! " 

England tried to find out how much the colonies would 
bear, and she found it out, to her cost. 

England did n't believe the Americans would fight for 
their rights. But she made a mistake. 

England believed that the lion had only to stretch out 
his gigantic paw and show his great teeth for the Ameri- 
cans to cower like a whipped spaniel at his feet. But the 
British lion, after gallantly fighting, as he always did, gave 
up scratching at Yankee forts, which blunted his strong 
claws, and biting at Yankee bayonets, which broke his 
sharp teeth, as they had never been blunted and broken 
before in fair fight. 

We should very naturally approach the town over the 
Neck, still, as in Puritan times, the only avenue over 
which a road passes. 

This neck of land by which the peninsula is attached to 
the main land was always a bleak and desolate place, 
over which the wintry winds, and in the season of high 
tides, the sea also, swept with violence. It had, conse- 
quently, caused the early inhabitants great trouble to make 
and keep in repair a sufficient roadway above high-water 
mark. In fact, travellers sometimes narrowly escaped 
drownmg while crossmg it. 



LIBERTY-TREE. 



63 




As we have a long and not very interesting way to 
travel, through the marshes uniting Boston with the main- 
land, perhaps 
we had better 
take a chaise as 
far as the old 
fortifications. 
The landlord of 
the " George " 
tavern will fur- 
nish the vehicle 
for a few shil- 
lings. 

Although CHAISE OP 1775. 

this tavern is one of the noted stopping-places of the 
province, and boasts the custom of gentlemen of the first 
rank, we have not the time to try if cellar or larder sup- 
port this reputation. Our chaise is ready, and our nag 
impatient to be off. 

" My service to you, gentlemen," says the jolly landlord, 
as we drive from his door. 

After leaving the George tavern, standing at the left of 
the road, near the town's boundary, in the midst of a fine 
farm, we see nothing except a few travellers, like ourseh'es, 
passing in or out, cows grazing contentedly by the road- 
side, — hear nothing but the occasional pop of a sports- 
man's gun among the marshes, — until, at the end of 



64 



AKOUNI) THE HUB. 



half a mile, we come to a group of houses, also at the 
left hand.i 

These are the store, house, and l)arn of Enoch Brown, 
who has no neiahbor on either side nearer than the 




EQUESTRIANS, REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. 

tavern we have just left. Here he picks up a little custom 
from people travelling in or out, particularly from the 
country folks, who, having sold their garden-stuff, are 

^ In the ueighborliood of Blackstone Square. 



LIBERTY-TREE. 



65 



returning home, jingling the silver in their pockets. At 
this hour they are going into town with launches of onions, 
turnips, or spinach sticking out of the panniers, w^hile 
Dobbin improves every opportunity to steal a mouthful 
of fresh grass from the roadside. 

Hearing here that the road below is overflowed by the 
tide, we exchange our chaise for a couple of saddle-horses, 
and continue 
our route 
toward the 
gates of the 
1 w n n 
horseback. 

The n a r- 
rowest part ^ 
is still the 
limit of the 
town, and 

here the Puritans erected first a gate and then a fortifica- 
tion extending across the Neck so as to securely close the 
entrance. The gates were constantly guarded, and were 
shut at a fixed hour in the evenmg, after which no one 
was allowed to pass in or out. 

Proceeding down the long highway leading from the 
now dismantled fortiiication into the town, we find only 
scattered houses until reaching the corner of Essex Street, 

' At Dover Street. 
5 




MARKET WOMAN, 1775. 



66 



AROUND THE HUB. 



where a venerable and spreading elm invites us to halt 
and partake the cool shade it flmgs over that antique 
dwellmg behind it. 

This is Libertv Tree. This is Liberty Hall. 






~i^W^^«rJ^il!'t] 







LIBERTY TREE. 

The house is one of the oldest, having been built only 
thirty-sLx years after the settlement. But we infer as 
much from the numerous gables, the overhanging upper 
story, and the massive chimney-stack, over which the 
swallows are sharply twittering. Since the year 1727 it 



libki;ty-tree. 67 

has been a printing-office, — first that of John Eliot, and 
after him, tliat of his son. 

Let us approach this magnificent tree. Ah ! tliere is a 
large copperplate attached to its trunk. What does it say ? 

" This tree was planted in the year 1646, and pruned 
by order of the Sons of Liberty, Feb. 14, 1766." 

We will let His Excellency, Governor Bernard, inform 
us how the tree obtained its name. 

" Your lordship must know," he says, in a letter to Lord 
Hillsborough, " that Liberty Tree is a large old elm in 
the high street, upon which the effigies were hung in 
the time of the Stamp Act, and from whence the mobs 
at that time made their parades. It has since been 
adorned with an inscription, and has obtained the name 
of Liberty Tree, as the ground under it has that of 
Liberty Hall. In August last, just before the commence- 
ment of the present troubles, they erected a flag-staff, 
which went through the tree, and a good deal above the 
top of the tree. L^pon this they hoist a flag as a signal 
for the Sons of Liberty, as they are called. ^ I gave my 
Lord Shelluirne an account of this erection at the time 
it w\as made. This tree has often put me in mind of 
Jack Cade's Oak of Eeformation." 

The Stamp Act, we know, was detested, because the 
colonists were taxed without being allowed any voice in 

1 A piece of this flag is now in the Old South collection of Eevo- 
lutiouarv relics. 



68 AROUND THE HUB. 

the matter. Parliament assumed that it had this power, 
— a power claimed to belong naturally and of right to 
the sovereign. The colonists declared that, while they 
would willingly tax themselves to raise moneys for the 
common defence, they could not and would not, sover- 
eign or no sovereign, submit to its being done by a Par- 
liament in which they were allowed no representation. 
So the cry arose, " No taxation without representation ! " 
The sovereign people were beginning to assert themselves. 

And they did n't submit. They never did submit. 

Thus when stamped paper was sent over, and stamp- 
officers were appointed under the obnoxious Act, the Bos- 
tonians made quick work of both. They first mobbed 
and hung in effigy to this tree the stamp-officer, they then 
demolished his office, and they finally forced him, on this 
very spot, publicly, and in presence of a great multitude, 
to resign his office. The unused stamps, now useless rags, 
but meant to extort a penny here and sixpence there, for 
King George to squander, were sent down to the Castle 
for safe keeping, in order that the exasperated Boston ians 
might not make a bonfire of them, as they undoubtedly 
would have done. 

Hanging in effigy was a very old way the people had of 
testifying their displeasure with their rulers. The first 
use of the kind this tree was put to was on the 14th 
August, 1765, nearly ten years before active hostilities 
broke out. At break of day the effigy of Mr. Oliver, the 




GENTLEMAN OF THE REVOLUTIONARY DAY. 



70 AROUND THE HUB. 

stamp-officer, and a jack-boot, with the devil, horns and 
all, peeping out, — a clever hit at Lord Bute, the Prime 
]\Iinister, — were discovered hanging from Liberty Tree. 
These images remained hanging all day, and they were 
visited by great numbers of people, both from the town 
and the country. All business was suspended. The 
Lieutenant-Governor (Hutchmson) ordered the sheriff to 
take the figures down ; but the people told him to let them 
alone, and he obeyed the people. 

It was in this way that the tree, which we must agree 
is a very noble and beautiful symbol of the growth of 
liberty upon free soil, became the chosen out-of-door 
resort of the liberty -loving, tyranny-hating Boston ians, 
until, as times grew worse, necessity obliged them to 
meet privately. 

This spirited action on the part of the Bostonians was 

quickly followed by the other colonies. In one place a 

placard was posted up at the street-corner bearing these 

ominous words : — 

" Pro Patria. 
" The first man that either distributes or makes use of stamped 
paper, let him take care of his house, person, and effects." 

" We dare. 

"Vox POPCLI." 

But the Stamp Act was repealed. The Americans re- 
fused to import British goods. This struck right at the 
pockets of the British merchants. Moreover, they had 



LIBERTY-TREE. 71 

powerful advocates in Parliament, — men like Barre, Con- 
way, but above all the great Pitt. And let it never be 
forgotten that the most intrepid spirit during these 
stormy times Boston knew was James Otis, — a man 
strong enough and able enough to make himself felt on 
both sides of the water. ^ 

Being in the neighborhood, it would be unpardonable to 
omit a visit to one of the most eccentric characters of his 
time, we might also say of 
any tmie. 

Eev. Mather Byles is the 
first pastor of Hollis Street 
Church. A long chapter 
would be needed to relate 
all the droll sayings and 
doings of this witty parson. 
He lives at the turning of 
Common Street,^ not far from his meetuig-house, in an old 
two-story gambrel-roofed dwelling. 

1 While Boston was in a state of siege, Liberty Tree was, at the 
instigation of the Tories, cut down. A soldier, while at work among 
the branches, fell to the ground, and was killed on the spot. Lafay- 
ette said, as he passed it, " The world should never forget the spot 
where once stood Liberty Tree, so famous in your annals." The 
stump, long remaining, was used by the people of the neighborhood 
as a mark of direction. Thus, Samuel Hastings advertises W. L and 
New England Eum " at his shop near the stump of Liberty Tree," 
m 177S. Now a mural tablet perpetuates the site. 

2 The extension of Old, now part of Tremont Street. 




OLD HOLLIS STREET. 



72 AKOUND THE HUB. 

But one anecdote we cannot omit, although it carries us 
far in advance of our time. Still, claiming the historian's 
privilege, we will narrate it. 

The doctor was a Tory, and when the British were 
driven out of the town he was treated as an enemy. For 
there are times when no man can stand neutral. He was 
confined to his own house, and a guard placed over him. 
On one occasion he persuaded his sentinel to go an 
errand for him hy agreeing to take his place, thus keep- 
ing guard u2)on himself. The soldier seemed to appre- 
ciate the joke, and handed over his musket to the doctor, 
who, to the wonder and amusement of all who passed, 
continued to march gravely up and down before his own 
door until the soldier's return. The authorities afterwards 
relieved the guard from this duty ; then they put it back ; 
and then finally freed the witty doctor from it altogether. 
But have his joke he would at their expense. He de- 
clared that he had been guarded, regarded, and disre- 
garded. 




■c 



VI. 



A TEMPEST IN A BIG TEA-POT. 

/^HANCE has led us to the spot on which the house of 
Governor Whithrop stands. But Ijy the side of it, 
in a crowded neighborhood, is a brick church, with a fine 
and lofty steeple pricking the frosty air of a December 
afternoon. There is a dense crowd of men, with a sprink- 
ling of women, arguing and gesticulatmg about the door, 
but the interior is so choked up with people that we can 
scarcely elbow our way in. The men's faces, we notice, 
are flushed and excited, and tliere is an angry buzz of 
half -suppressed voices. Evidently somethhig out of the 
common has brought these people here. What can it be ? 
Ah ! they are all talking about tea. 



74 



AROUND THE HUB. 



•' You can lead a horse to water, Ijut you can't make 
him drink," one says, very significantly, to his neighbor. 

" Aye, and they can send us tea, hut can't make us 
clrink," responded his neighbor. 

" Let them take it back to England, then, and peddle it 

out there," ejaculates 
a third. "We will not 
have it forced down 
our throats," he adds. 
" What sort of a 
drink would tea and 
salt water make ? " sug- 
gests a man who is 
evidently losing pa- 
tience ; for it has 
grown dark, and the 
lamps shed a dim light 
througliout the un- 
quiet crowd. 

" Good for John 
Rowe ! " shout the by- 
standers approvingly, 
and, as his words pasS' 
from mouth to mouth, the people laugh and clap. 

Presently a man of middle age speaks. At his first 
w^ords every voice is hushed. Every eye is turned upon 
him. In a grave and steady voice he tells the people that 




A TEMPEST IN A BIG TEA-POT. 75 

their purpose to send the tea-ships home to England, with 
their cargoes untouched, has been thwarted by Governor 
Hutchinson, who refuses to give the vessels the pass, with- 
out which they cannot sail. " And now," concludes this 
same grave and earnest voice, to which all eagerly listen, 
" this meeting can do nothing more to save the country." 

There is a moment's silence, — a moment of keen disap- 
pointment, an ommous silence. 

Then some one in the gallery cries out, in a ringing 
voice, " Boston Harbor a tea-pot to-night ' Hurrah for 
Griffin's Wharf ! " 

Instantly, before the people are aware what is intended, 
an Indian war-whoop pierces the air ; and, starting at the 
signal, no one seems to know whence or how, half a hun- 
dred men, having their faces smeared with soot, and 
disguised as Indian warriors, brandish- . 

ing hatchets and shouting as they run, 
pour through j\Iilk Street, followed by ^ 
the crowd, turn down to Griffin's ^ 
Wharf, where the tea-ships lay, clam- -iT^^!' 
ber on board, take off the hatches in a 
hurry, and while some pass up the chests from the hold 
others smash and pitch them overboard. Crash go the 
hatchets, splash goes the tea. Splash ! splash ! Every 
one works for dear life, earnest and determined. 

Never were ships more quickly unloaded. The fright- 
ened captains and crews were told to go below and stay 




76 AROUND THE HUB. 

there if they would not be harmed. They obeyed. No 
one but the fishes drank that tea. 

After finishing tlieir work the lads who have lieen 
making a tea-pot of Boston Harbor marched gayly back 
to town to the music of a fife. While on their way they 
passed by the residence of Mad Montagu, the British 
admiral, who commanded all the fleet of war-ships then 
lying at anchor within gunshot of the town. The admiral 
threw up his window, thrust out his head, and halloed : — 

" Well, boys, you iiave had a fine, pleasant evening for 
your Indian caper, haven't you? But mind, you've got 
to pay the fiddler yet ! " 

" Oh, never mind, Scpiire ! " shouted Pitts, the leader. 
" Just come out here, if you please, and we'll settle the 
bill in two minutes." 

The admiral shut his window in a hurry, and the tea- 
party, with a laugh for the admiral, marched on. He was 
fond of a fight, but thought it best to decline this invi- 
tation. 

But who, we ask, was the man whose words carried 
with them so much authority at the meeting, and whom 
everybody seemed instinctively to look upon as their 
leader ? 

That man, we are told, was Samuel Adams. 

And who was Samuel Adams ? 

Why, Samuel Adams was the Man of the PiEVOLU- 
TION. 



A TEMPEST IN A BIG TEA-POT. 77 

He was one of themselves. That is why the people 
trusted him. He believed in them. That is why they 
believed in him. He had great ability to plan, firmness 
to execute, and was devoted heart and soul to the cause of 
his country. He had a will of iron. He was poor, but 
unselfish. He did not ask any reward. He believed first 
in God and next in his country. He was one of the old 
Puritans whom nothing could turn from a purpose once 
fixed, — no, not even bribes, nor threats, nor danger to life 
and limb. Washington was the head of the army. Sam- 
uel Adams was the head of the people. 

Why, only a few years before, two British regiments 
had been sent out to overawe this people. Their presence 
in the town very soon led to bloodshed. The soldiers, in- 
furiated by taunts, fired upon the citizens, killing several 
on the spot. Thus did the prophetic words of Franklin, 
when he was asked in the House of Lords about sendinsf 
the military to enforce the Stamp Act — " The troops will 
not find a rebellion : they may, indeed, make one " — come 
true. They did make one. Franklin knew. 

The enraged Bostonians, after this deplorable affair 
happened, would have torn the two regiments in pieces. 
They demanded the removal of the troops from the town. 
Thomas Hutchinson, the acting governor, tried to defeat 
this purpose by equivocation, but Adams sternly forced 
him to obey the will of an outraged people. The troops 
were sent out of town. And the British minister, Lord 



78 AROUND THE HUB. 

North, after he heard of it, always spoke contemptuously 
of these soldiers as Sam Adams's two regiments. 

The people's friend and champion is never himself 
friendless. Adams was poor ; yes, and proud too. Not 
being rich, he could not and did not associate with the 
wealthy Hancocks, Bowdoins, Higginsons, and Eussells. 
His dress and his manners were equally modest and plain. 
But the people loved him, and this was their way of show- 
ing it. He had neglected money-getting to help them in 
their struggle against tyranny, and Bostonians are never 
ungrateful. 

His old barn being ready to fall, some persons, who 
would not tell their names, asked permission to build him 
a new one. He consented, and it was done in a few days. 
Another asked leave to repair his house. This was 
also thoroughly done. Another friend sent to beg him, as 
a favor, to call at a tailor's shop and be measured for a suit 
of clothes. Still another gave him a new wig ; and others 
a new hat, hose, and shoes enough to last him the rest of his 
life. Then some one else finished up this donation with a 
purse containing fifteen or twenty broad pieces of gold. 

All this was done with as much delicacy of feeling as if 
the givers had belonged to the highest rank of society. 
Samuel Adams did not demean himself by accepting these 
gifts any more than a soldier does by receiving his pay, or 
a general his pension. 

This was Adams's way of telling the people how they 



80 



AROUND THE HUB. 



might dare even the power of the mighty British Empire. 
He told them a fable like this one : — 

"A Greek philosopher, who was lying asleep on the 
grass, was suddenly aroused by a sharp pain in the palm 
of his hand. He shut liis hand quickly and found he had 
caught a little field-mouse. While he was looking at it, 
and wondering how such an insignificant animal dared to 
attack him, it bit him a second time. He dropped it and 
it made its escape. Now, fellow citizens," said Adams, 
" there is no animal, liowever weak and contemptible, 
wliich cannot defend its own liberty 
if it will only JigJtt for it." 

Now I think we know who Samuel 
Adams was. 

As we walk about, we are not a 
little amused by the odd signs hang- 
ing on iron cranes over the shop or 
tavern doors. Many of them display 
great ingenuity to attract custom. Here, for instance, is 
a printer's and bookseller's sign. The Heart and Crown. ^ 
Here is one hung out by a dealer in English and India 
goods. The Three Doves. - 

A third, with the date, is The Blue Ball, the sign of 




THE HEART AND 
CROWN. 



1 The sic,m of T. Fleet, in old Coriibill, or at the north corner of 
Water and Washington Streets. 

2 The sign of Wni. Blair Townsend, in Marlborough, now Washing- 
ton Street. 



A TEMPEST IN A BIG TEA-POT. 



81 




THREE DOVES. 



Benjamin Franklin's father. ^ A still more curious one is 
that of a tavern on the Neck, on which, as shown in the 
picture, is a man, with head, one arm, and leg sticking out 
through a globe, like a chicken break- 
ing its shell. From the man's mouth 
issue the words "How shall I get 
through this world ? " - 

Some other signs are the Golden -^ 
Cock, Crown and Sceptre, Dish of 
Lemons, Bunch of Grapes, Cross Keys, 
Black Boy and Butt, Dog and Piain- 
bow, Cromwell's Head, etc. ^ 

The neighborhood of the Old South 
is rich in historical associations. On one side, as we have 
said, is the home of Governor Winthrop ; on the other, 
in Milk Street, facing the church, is the birthplace of 
that eminent citizen, statesman, and philosopher, Benja- 
min Franklin. The house has been shown in a preced- 

^ At the corner of Hanover and Union Streets ; the building was 
demolished in 1858 to widen the street. 

2 An anecdote is told of this sign. It is said that during the 
Revolutionary War a Continental regiment halted in front of this 
tavern after a forced march from Providence. The men were ready to 
drop from fatigue, but could not help laughing at the droll figure on 
the signboard ; and one of the soldiers reading the inscription, " How 
shall I get through this world?" exclaimed, '"List! darn ye, 'list! 
and you'll get through soon enough." This sally put the men in a 
good humor, for soldiers dearly love a joke at all times. 

3 The Bunch of Grapes is still hanging in South Market Street. 

6 



82 



AKOUXl) THE HUB. 




THE BLUE BALL. 



iiig chapter, but here is a representation of the very press 

un which he worked as a journeyman printer. ^ For cen- 
turies the printing- 
])ress has scarcely been 
altered, and this one 
is, as nearly as may 
be, an exact model of 
that used by William 
Caxton, hi 1471, in 
England.^ 
Turning now to the opposite side of Old Marlborough 

Street we see, standing some distance back from it, a 

fine, stately building, built of 

brick. We see on the portico 

of the entrance the arms of 

CTreat Britain. Glancing up- 
ward, the bronze figure of an 

Indian, in the act of fitting 

an arrow to his bow, glistens 

brightly on the pinnacle of the 

cupola. The arms denote an 

official residence. This is the 

mansion house of the royal governors, or Province House.^ 




" HOW SHALL I GET THROUGH 
THIS WORLD ? " 



' On exhibition in the collection of the Old South. 

2 Learn something about Caxton and the art of printing. See 
Thomas's History of Printing for the rise of this art in America. 

3 Arms and Indian are now in possession of the Mass. Hist. 
Societj'. For pailicular directions concerning the sites of these old 
buildings, consult Old Landmarks of Boston, and Middlesex. 



A TEMPEST IN A BIG TEA-POT. 



83 




BUNCH OF GRAPES. 



At the time of the outbreak we have lately witnessed in 
the Old South, the acting Governor, having a house of his 
own at the North End, did not live 

here. But we will call on him by ^^L _ "L . 

and l)y. 

With its handsome grass lawn in 
front, shaded by stately trees, and 
separated by a fence from the high- 
way ; with its paved walk leading 
from the gateway up to the Ijroad 
stone steps, over which we should 
tread with a becoming sense of the 
dignity we are approaching; with its sentinel in scarlet 

pacing up and down the corridor 
like an automaton ; with the or- 
derlies lounging here, booted and 
spurred; with the horses ready 
saddled at the porter's lodge, — we 
should, in a few short months 
after the memorable Tea Party, 
see the peaceful abode of the 
earlier governors, who lived here 
in quiet state, changed into a mil- 
itary headquarters, with General 
Thomas Gage in possession. For now the town has lieen 
declared in open rebellion, and all its shipping pro- 
hibited from setting sail, by the passage of the Boston 




FRANKLIN S PRESS. 



84 



AKOUND THE HUB. 



Port Bill ill Parliament, assembled. George III. is furi- 
ous. 

And all for pitching that unlucky tea overboard. 

I pray you, my young reader, to pay no attention to 
those writers who continue, even yet, to call the British 




THL PROM^CL HOUSE 



outcasts, felons, or murderers. The officers were as brave, 
as chivalric even, the soldiers as good, as those of any 
army. They and our fathers were now enemies, but 



A TEMPEST IX A BIG TEA-POT. 85 

they had been friends and comrades. They began war Ijy 
making a terrible mistake. Because some imbecile had 
said the Yankees were all cowards, most of the young- 
soldiers believed it. But the graybeards, like General 
Gage, knew better. They had fought side by side with 
those despised Yankees, at Havana, Louisburg, Quebec, 
and " Ty." These men shook their heads sadly when 
they heard the youngsters of the army say, with a super- 
cilious sniff : — 

" Ton my life, I believe there does not exist so great a 
set of rascals and poltroons as these same Yankees ! " 

The poor fellow who made that silly speech lived to 
repent it. A Yankee Ijullet pierced his breast in less than 
a year. 

But the Bostonians hated the soldiers just as cordially, 
and it did them good to calk them opprobrious names when 
speaking of them. It did them good to cudgel them 
soundly when they caught them without their arms. 

General Gage was not a Ijad man. Far from it. But 
King George told him to crush out rebellion in Massachu- 
setts, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. He had 
served a long time in America, and carried a French bullet 
he had received at Braddock's defeat. He had only just 
returned to England from Boston when the king sent for 
him. 

" About these rebellious Bostonians ? " said George 
III. 



86 AROUND THE HUB. 

" Oh, your Majesty," the general replied, " they will be 
lions while we are lambs ; but if we take the resolute part 
they will undoubtedly prove very meek." 

" And how many of my soldiers will be necessary to 
bring them to theii^ senses ? " 

" Four regiments, sire, will be more than sufficient." 

" Very good, sir. I mean to send you there." 

" I shall be ready at a day's notice, your Majesty," an- 
swered General Gage, bowing low. 

So he took his American wife under his arm and came 
to Boston, with a smiling face, but, I '11 be bound, a heavy 
heart beating under his gold-embroidered coat. The people 
liked General Gage ; they considered him half American at 
least, for he had fought with Washington and Putnam, and 
had married, as we know, a high-spirited American lady. 
But they were now bent on war. So this general tried to 
be a generous enem}'. He was as slow to begin the 
" crushing " as possible, — so slow that his soldiers grew 
angry with him. His officers teased him to begin. His 
king said, with a sneer, that he was " too amial)le." And 
presently General Gage found himself disgraced, and or- 
dered to give up the command to General William Howe, 
the fire-eater and lady-killer. 

Perhaps you have heard that even in these old times 
the Boston boys wei'e in the habit of coasting on the Com- 
mon. They would build hills of snow and slide swiftly 
down to the Frog Pond. Well, the English soldiers had 



A TEMPEST IX A BIG TEA-POT. 87 

their camps on the Common, and from mere love of mischief 
would, when the boys had gone to school, destroy tlieir coast- 
ing-ground. Incensed at having their sport thus meanly 
prevented, a delegation of boys went to General Gage 
about it. When shown into his presence he asked, with 
surprise, why so many children had come to see him. 

"We come, sir," said the young spokesman, with a 
Hushed face, " to ask a redress of our grievances." 

" What ! " said the general, " have your fathers been 
teaching you rebellion, and sent you here to utter it ? " 

" Nobody sent us, sir," replied the brave little fellow. 
" We have never injured or insulted your soldiers, but they 
have trodden down our snow-hills, and broken the ice on 
our skating-ground. We complained, and they called us 
young rebels, and told us to help ourselves if we could. 
Yesterday our works were destroyed for the third time, 
and now," said the lad, with Hashing eyes, " we will bear 
it no longer." 

General Gage looked at the boys with undisguised ad- 
miration. Then, turning to an officer who stood near, he 
exclaimed : — 

" Good heavens ! the very children draw in a love of 
liberty with the air they breathe." To the lads he then 
said : — 

" You may go, my brave boys ; and be assured that if any 
of my troops hereafter molest you, they shall be severely 
punished." 




THE OLD CORNER. 



VII. 



FROM THE OLD CORNER TO KING STREET. 



T ET us iiow turn back a little as far as School Street, 
so as to continue our walk by Tremont Street and 
Prison Lane to King Street. 

The northerly corner of School Street is occupied by a 
brick house, plain and portly. It is only a store, with 
a dwelling overhead, as the custom is. But ere we pass it 
by with only a glance, we remember that on the spot 
where it stands was the home of the unfortunate Anne 
Hutchinson, who was banished for what were termed her 



FROM THE OLD CORNER TO KING STREET. 89 

heresies. She was, however, ii very sensible woman, whose 
crime consisted in tliinking out for herself the way of 
salvation. So she had to go the way of Roger Williams, — 
an outcast and a wanderer, flying from Cliristians to 
savages for freedom of conscience. 

She brought around her, in her house, the most mjtable 
Bostonians of lier day, such as Vane, Cotton, and Wheel- 
wright, and was fast making converts to her own opin- 
ions when the Puritan ndnisters bitterly denounced 
her. Deserted by her friends, her conduct was heroic. 
She, at least, would not renounce her opinions, her convic- 
tions rather, but remained firm. So greatly were the 
authorities alarmed that all those inhabitants who were 
supposed to sympathize with her were disarmed. This 
was the greatest religious commotion that ever occurred 
in Boston. 1 

Passing the Latin School, from which the street takes 
its name, we continue to ascend, coming shortly to a mas- 
sive and gloomy building of stone standing at the corner 
of Tremont, or Treamount Street as it is still called, in the 
Eevolutionary days. A square bell-tower, rising above 
the roof, gives entrance to the building. It looks a per- 
petual defiance to Puritanism, — a fortress of the old faith. 
This is King's Chapel, in which Captain-General Gage and 
his suite come to church. Going in, we find the pew, 

^ The causes are too intricate for young readers to understand. 
Indeed, one hardly knows whether to be most incredulous or 
ashamed of such relentless persecution. 



90 



AROUND THE HUB. 



conspicuous for its size and elegance, set apart for the 
royal governor, in which he sits and listens to the reading 
of the Litany by the rector, Dr. Caner. The pride of 
birth, and station, and loyalty to the throne well suited 
the traditions of this Church. Prayers are read from a 




kl^(. b CHAPEL. 



book having the royal monogram, " G. E.," thereon. An 
organ, selected it is said by the great Handel himself, 
blazoned with golden crown and mitre, peals forth the 
Te Deum. The walls are hung around with the proud 
armorial badges of those old families who have founded 
an aristocracy in Puritan Boston, and who ride to church 



FROM THE OLD CORNER TO KING STREET. 



91 




in chariots with Uveried black footmen standing np be- 
hind. Powdered wigs, costly laces, satin or velvet robes, 
with here and there a scarlet coat, glow" like a bed of 
flowers against the cold 
gray walls. Proud pa- 
trician faces look up, 
and red lips utter, with 
emphasis, the responses 
while the prayer to save 
our sovereign lord the 
King is being read. 
These loyalists are 
called by the patriots, 
as a reproach, Tories. ^ h.uknev coach. 

But for all that there were patriots in this church, too, 
who, we doubt not, offered up a 
silent prayer for their distressed 
country. These were called 
Whigs. 

Here, outside the massive walls, 
'^h mounded with graves and thick 
X with their last monuments, is the 
r ancient graveyard of the Puritans. 
While we have been inspecting 
the enddems of the living, those 
of the dead now meet the eye. Some are of lead and 
imbedded in freestone slabs ; some cut with much skill 




SHIRLEY ARMS. 



92 AROUND THE HUB. 

in hard slate-stone.^ "Were we to descend into the 
tombs we should find these arms engraved on the silver 
coffin-plates. But enough of these frail relics of a frail 
humanity. 

At the other extremity of the burial-ground we find 
the old wooden house in which Dr. Caner, rector of 
King's Chapel, lives. We now turn the corner of 
Queen Street.^ Keeping the right hand, we come 
first to the parsonage of Brattle Street Church, then 
to the Court House and Prison. 

The Court House is a new brick buildmg with an 
octagonal cupola. The Prison is a large stone build- 
ing, of three stories, having brick partitions, strongly 
cased with plank and iron. It is not nearly so squalid 
or so forbidding as the old prison of Puritan times, 
in which so many miserable ones languished. That 
had thick stone walls, dark corridors, and cold, damp 
dungeons. But the old forms of punishment are still 
employed, except that death is not now inflicted for cer- 
tain offences under the old Judaic law. Thieves and 
housebreakers are branded in the hand, or on both cheeks,, 
with a hot iron, and so compelled to wear the badge of 
infamy through life. Sitting on the gallows, or in the 

1 Look along the railing, next the sidcAvalk, for some of these 
ancient escutcheons. 

2 Now Court. First called Prison Lane. The corner house was 
once occupied by General Washington. 



FROM THE OLD CORXER TO KIXG STREET. 



93 



stocks, or so many stripes on the bare back, are usual in 
common offences. 

Emerging from Queen Street we have directly in front 
the old Court House, in which the General Court or Legis- 
lature sits, or did sit until General Gage summoned it to 
meet at Salem, when, having first locked the door against 
Mr. Secretary Flucker who came to dissolve it, the mem- 
bers formed themselves into a Provincial Congress. " We 
have the name of rebels, and might as well have the game, 
too," they think. 

The secretary, finding the door shut in his face, sheep- 
ishly read the proclamation on the stairs to a few gaping 
idlers. 

Once more we stand in the heart of old Boston. We 
find it much changed. The wooden Town-House, first 
erected here, has given 
place to this more impos- 
ing structure. The first 
Puritan meeting-house 
has been removed from 
its ancient location, and 
now fronts Cornhill, a 
little way to our right. 
Far down King Street 
we see tapering masts 
and sparkling water. 
On the corner opposite 




OLD ST.\TE HOUSE. 



94 



AKOUXD THE HUB. 




speaker's desk. 



to US is the shop of Hemy Knox,^ stationer and book- 
binder. 

Going now as far as the open space at the lower end of 

the Court, or Town-House, we stand on the spot made 

memorable by the Fifth of 
March Massacre. At our left, 
as we look down the street, 
hangs the sign of the Koyal 
Exchange Tavern, one of the 
best m the town. Looking up, 
\^f' the arms of the kingdom — the 
lion and the unicorn, the red- 
cross shield — grace each angle 

of the town-house tower. We are in the centre of trade, 

at the junction of the two principal thoroughfares of the 

town. The lower floor of 

the Town-House has been 

used by the merchants, 

ever since the old days, _ 

as their exchange. But -^^^R 

where now is the 

activity, the throng, the 

bustle, of a year aero 



Few people and fewei ^'i jjJ^ |p I M 
vehicles are in the streets 
The men look downcast 




ULJJ LKICK CHURCH. 



^ Afterwards the Revolutionarv general. 



FROM THE OLD CORNER TO KING STREET. 95 

and preoccupied, the women look brave but sad ; the 
warehouses are deserted, the merchants sit idle in their 
stores. This is the etl'ect of the Port Bill. Grass grows 
in the streets. The king means to starve the Bosto- 
nians into submission. Will he do it ? 




TROPHTES OF BENNINGTON. 



YIII. 



THE ROYAL BEAST SHOWS HIS TEETH. 



'' I ^HE venerable building, in whose shadow we are, is a 
speaking monument of the days "that tried men's 
souls." Its walls have rung with the fiery eloquence of 
an Otis, and they have shaken with the murderous volleys 
poured into the breasts of the Sons of Liberty. " Here," 
says John Adams, " Independence was born." With what 
pride should Bostonians, pointing to this building in the 
future, repeat to the stranger, " Here independence was 
born " ! With what shame would they hang their heads if 
they could only point to the vacant spot of ground in silence! ^ 

^ This old building has been the scene of events more vital to the 
history of Boston and New England — I may say of the whole 



THE ROYAL BEAST SHOWS HIS TEETH. 97 

But while we have been musing here, our ears are sa- 
luted by the crash of martial music. We look down the 
street to see it choked up with glittering bayonets over 
which the free breeze unfurls the proud standards that 
have floated victorious over many a hard-fought field of 
the Old World. 

Hark to the roll of the drums ! Listen to the bugles ! 
They come nearer. Now we see the bearskins of the 
grenadiers. They know that a thousand eyes are upon 
them. Their bearing shows it. The king's crest and 
cipher glitter on the front of their caps. The king's cipher 
within the garter, with the crown above, is in the centre 
of their colors, and upon their drums. They wear his 
livery. Other regiments are the king's, but this one is the 
" King's Own." 

The negro drummer-boys look like dressed-up monkeys. 
So the crowd thinks, and laughs. But hark ! what is the 
band playing ? Can it be ? Yes, it is " Yankee Doodle," 
played in derision. Now the lookers-on do not laugh. 
They are ominously silent. 

How bravely the young officers look, in their ruffles and 
gold lace ! Many are younger sons of nobles and peers who 
hardly have a serious thought for anything. Swords briglit, 

country — than any other now standing in the city of tlie Puritans. 
If there is any pile of brick and stone within its limits wortli pre- 
serving, it is this one ; and if there is any spot to which a reverence 
of the great past calls us, it is here. 



98 AROUND THE HUB. 

hearts light, they march airily along. They glance scorn- 
fully around, for they have been told these bloodthn-sty 
Bostonians would not let them step foot on the sacred soil. 
Perhaps they see a pretty face at a window, and gallantly 
touch their laced beavers. Perhaps their eyes meet a scowl- 
ing one, and return a haughty stare of defiance. These 
thousand Englishmen, whose steady tramp shakes the solid 
earth, believe themselves invmcible. They are the sons of 
the heroes of Crecy, and Agincourt, and Quebec ! They 
will march through or over thousands of such rabble as 
they see sternly watching their fine parade, they think. 
They have come three thousand miles to do it. Rebellion 
is to be put down. The king shall have his own. Old 
England to the rescue ! 

" Wliat regiment is that ? By St. George, it is a right 
royal one, indeed ! " 

" That is the King's Own Regiment." 

"Well," drawls a bystander, who has been watching 
them intently, "they are trim-looking lads, to be sure; but 
an ounce of lead would settle one of them just as quick as 
another man, I'm thinking." 

" And did you notice the lion on their ensign, how fat 
and sleek he looks ? " asked another. 

" Aye, a pampered beast, — needs blood-letting," replied 
the bold citizen who has just spoken. 

" Curse them ! I wish the earth would open and swallow 
every mother's son," mutters a rabid rebel. 



THE liOYAL BEAST SHOWS HIS TEETH. 



99 




The battalion moves on through Queen and Tremont 
Streets to the Common. Here it hahs. Tlie companies 
wheel into line, colors are 
planted, muskets stacked, 
sentinels posted. They 
are then dismissed. Men 
from each company begui 
to mark off their camp- 
ground, and to set up 
their tents. A poor, 
frightened cow — the 
men stone her and shout 
— runs blindly into the 
line of stacked arms and 
wounds herself upon the bayonets. One by one a cloud of 
tents arise on the green. A village in white seems sprung 
from the greensward. The women and camp-followers 
bring fagots and light tires, over which pots are soon cook- 
ing supper for this thousand-mouthed hydra. Colonel Mad- 
ison turns his bridle-rein and rides to the Province House 
to make his report, and mayhap to taste General Gage's 
Madeira. 

AVhile this is going on the officers gather in little groups 
to talk over the events of the day. They say : — 

"So here we are at last." "We've marched through 
Boston and not burnt a kernel of powder, in spite of all 
their threats." " But what a lovely spot." " This west 



REGIMENTAL ENSIGN TAKEN AT 
YORKTOWN. 



100 



AllOUXD THE HUB. 



breeze across the bay ! ''' 
" Those trees for a morning 
promenade ! " " This smooth 
turf for parade." 

Thus they keep up a run- 
ning fire of comments until 
their servants, of which each 
has one or more, call them 
to the mess-tables. 

" Yeij pretty, very pretty 
indeed," growls a beardless 
sub over his rasher. " This, 
will do well enough for a 
lark, but there 's a deuced 
better chance to sell out and 
turn farmer than for pro- 
motion, I 'm thinking." 

" Wait a bit, my boy," re- 
turns a veteran officer, "wait 
a l)it. It 's easy enough to get- 
into a trap, but either I 'm an 
idiot or we shall get singed 
before we get out." 

Then they all laugh and 
grow merry at the last, 
speaker's expense. But they 
don't know that the men who sullenly watched their 




SENTRY GO. 



THE KOYAL BEAST SHOWS HIS TEETH. 101 

parade have gone hoiue to run bullets, and to whet 
theh^ fathers' swords. 

This is the fourteenth day of June, 1774. The Bos- 
tonians have sowed sedition and are reaping a crop of steel. 

On the next day the -lod lands ; then the 5th and 
38th, with six pieces of cannon. Earl Percy, colonel of 
the 5th, scion of a noble house, takes command of this camp, 
and General Clage — for he was beghming to feel down- 
right uneasy — and the Tories toi), l^reathe more freely. 
The Bostonians breathe between their teeth. 

So far the British have done nothing but drive the 
cows from their old pastures ; and no blood has been 
spilt, except that of the poor animal who ran off with a 
bayonet sticking in her ribs, bellowing with fright. 

Having followed the soldiers to the Common, — we all 
love to follow the soldiers dearly, — nothing prevents our 
looking about us. 

We are standing in the Mall, wliicli is the only portion of 
the Common used as a promenade by the citizens, or 
planted with shade-trees. But this extends only a little 
below Winter Street. All the rest is uncared for, and 
perhaps treeless, except that one gigantic elm near the 
Frog Pond, which, could it speak, as the ancients pretended 
the trees could, might tell us of many things it has 
witnessed. ^ For here it was growing when the first Eng- 

^ This "Great Elm," long so-called, was blown down during a 
severe gale, the night of Feb. 15, 1876. 



102 



AROUND THE HUB. 



lisli came to found their city in the wilderness. Behind 
it rises a little hill. By its side is the miry pool called 




THE GREAT ELM. 

the Frog Pond. West of us the green slopes ascend gently 
to the summit of Beacon Hill, on which stands the sicjnal 
mast, or beacon, as in the olden time. 

A little way down the slope, towards us, is a fine 
colonial mansion. Eecollect this house, for it is the resi- 
dence of John Hancock, Esq., a Boston rebel. We have 
now taken a general view of the Common. 

But the Mall, though short, we see is extended northerly 



104 AllOUND THE HUB. 

towards King's Chapel by a row of beautiful elm-trees ^ 
planted by Adino Paddock, and from him called Paddock's 
]\Iall. And he also gave the name of Long Acre to that 
part of Tremont Street from School to Winter. Adino 
Paddock is a coach and chariot builder. 

"A train-baud captain eke was he 
Of i'anious Boston t{jwn." 

He commands the town's artillery-train. He is a red- 
hot Tory. 

Paddock's Mall skirts the Old Oranary Burying-ground, 
so-called because the town Granary, a long, wooden 
building stands at the CDrner beside it, where the street ^ 
ascends Beacon Hill. The town Almshouse and Work- 
house are on this street, adjoining the Granary. 

We finish our investigation just in the nick of time, for 
a group of military gentlemen is approaching. It is 
General Gage and his retinue. First marches His Ex- 
cellency, stout, pompous, and wearing an enormous cocked- 
hat, looped up at the side with golden buttons. In his 
hand is a light cane over which the sleeve-ruffles negli- 
gently droop. His face is clean sha\'en, for the regulation 
of the army forbids wearing a beard. A Ing shirt-frill, 
stiff with starch, sticks out of his bosom like a tin. A 

1 Notwithstanding urgent remonstrance I'roni all classes of citi- 
zens the city authorities, a few years ago, caused these trees to be cut 
down. No sufficient reason was given for the act. 

'^ Park Street, formerly " Gentry " or Sentry Street. 



THE ROYAL BEAST SHOWS IILS TEETH. 105 

scarlet coat with gold epaulets, a long, buft' waistcoat, 
breeches fitting the leg tightly, white silk stockings, feet 
encased in high shoes adorned with silver Ijuckles, make 
np the outward man of the British commander-in-chief. 
Take a good look at him. He has promised to put down 
rebellion with four battalions. 

The general is attended l)y five or si.x: field-officers, two 
or three aide-de-camps, with eight orderly sergeants follow- 
ing at a very respectful distance. They must not over- 
hear anything. Evidently he is going to pay a visit of 
ceremony. 

An antique wooden house, rising in the midst of a de- 
lightful garden, that extends far down "Winter Street on 
one side, and back towards the Granary on the other, 
occupies the corner opposite to us. Into this house the 
general goes, while officers of high and low degree kick 
their heels at the gate, forming two little groups, indicat- 
ing the difference between the general and the colonel, the 
colonel and the sergeant. This is military etiquette : 
keep your distance. 

The house belongs to Inspector Williams, ^ a crown offi- 
cer, perhaps. It is at present the headquarters of my 
Lord Percy, who, though the possessor of a great name, will 
do very little, we tliuik, towards making it greater. It is 

^ It was afterwards the residence of Samuel Brack, agent of the 
French Government, and a successful Boston merchant. It had also 
been occupied by Governor Sir Francis Bernard. 



106 AROUND THE HUB. 

only a step from this house to the camp. The general is 
going to visit the earl. His earlship, it is true, obeys 
(leneral Gage's orders here, but at home he is the greater 
man of the two. He will mherit vast wealth. Conse- 
(piently, General Gage does not call him "colonel," but 
" my lord," and says, " How is your lordship to-day ? " and 
he " my lords " him until we are a good deal puzzled to 
know which is the general and wdiich the colonel. But 
this also is etiquette, of another kind. They call it caste. 
General Gage know^s full well that the Percy has more 
influence in England than he, a hundred times over. 
So the poor general has bigger men than himself under 
him, and he feels it. 

But this proud earl, with his long nose, his weak eyes, 
and his long legs, treats his 5th Regiment munificently. 
Therefore, to a man, the regiment adores him. Of course 
he is brave : he is a Percy. But his superiors must 
handle his earlship very gingerly indeed. A live lord is 
something very sacred to Englishmen. 

We have the troops and their commanders settled at 
last; and now we will cross over the Common, keeping 
outside the line of sentinels, to the elegant mansion house 
spoken of as the residence of John Hancock, Esq. This 
John Hancock is a wealthy merchant. He inherited wealth ; 
he also inherited this house, built by his rich uncle, Thomas, 
from his aunt Lydia. He rides in his chariot, gives elegant 
suppers, and lives generally like a prince. His house is 



THE ROYAL BEAST SHOWS HIS TEETH. 



107 




crammed with costly furniture and beautiful paintings. He 
is well educated, and has travelled abroad. John Hancock, 
though a minister's 



son, and a rich man 
througli trade, is a 
part of the upper 
crust. But under- 
neath the crust is 
the meat. He can open 
his window of a morn- 
ing, and letting in the 
sun, look down over 
the white tents of the 
army sent to subju- 
gate his country and 
his people. He can look over these to the wooden house 
occupied by the deputy-commandant, — the titled soldier 
of Britain. But he did not see a prouder man than him- 
self there, if all we hear is true. 

But which side will he choose ? 

Hancock became an ardent patriot, an honest one too. 
But he had to be managed, coaxed, and flattered. He 
was not another Samuel Adams, a patriot by the inspira- 
tion of freedom alone. Not he. But then, there could 
hardly be two Samuel Adamses in the same century. 
Eeally, there could be very little sympathy between these 
two men till the king, by declaring them the two greatest 



HANCOCK MANSION. 



108 AROUND THE HUB. 

traitors in all his broad realm, bound tliem together for- 
ever; and there they will stand in history, — Hancock and 
Adams, the proscril)ed rebels. 

But now John Hancock is an especial object of hatred 
to the British army. According to one royal officer, he 
is " a poor, contemptible fool led about by Adams." 

Having talked of the owner, let us look at the house, — 
the best, everything considered, in Boston. 

The building is of stone, Iniilt in the substantial manner 
favored by the wealthier Bostonians, with very thick 
walls. A balcony projects over the entrance door uj)on 
which a large window of the second story opens. The 
corners and windows are ornamented with Braintree 
granite. The roof is tiled and surmounted by a balustrade. 
Dormer windows, jutting out from this roof, give a beauti- 
ful and extensive view of town and harbor. A low stone 
wall, with a light wooden fence placed upon it, separates 
the grounds from the street. A paved walk, then a dozen 
stone steps, conduct to the mansion, situated on rising 
ground a little back from the street. Before the door is a 
broad stone slab worn by the feet of the distinguished 
inhabitant and his guests. ^ 

As the different regiments arrive they take position on 
the right of the 4th, or " King's Own," whose camp is 
directly opposite the quarters of Earl Percy. Thus we 
have Boston under bayonet rule. 
^ For a farther description see Old Luiidiuarks of Boston, pp. 338-343. 



THE KOYAL BEAST SHOWS HIS TEETH. 109 

The citizens have never given themselves the trouble to 
hide their detestation of the soldiery. They recollect the 
nth ttf March. The soldiers treat the citizens with con- 
tempt or violence whenever they meet in the streets. 
Both are "spoiling" for a tight. But for a while they will 
limit themselves to knock-downs and fisticuffs. 

Soldiers and citizens, King's Men and Liberty Boys, 
l)egin to abuse each other directly. From words they 
(piickly get to blows. Sometimes one, sometimes the 
other, gets the worst. The soldiers generally begin the 
street affrays, but as by and by the parties grow more and 
more exasperated. General Gage wisely forbids his soldiers 
wearing their side-arms about the town. Then they catch 
it. Then they begin to call their general such names as 
"Tommy "and "The Old Woman," because he will not 
let them cut and stab and beat these rascal Bostonians as 
much as they like. 

Officers who get tipsy over their cards and their bottle 
will also jostle the townspeople and insult their wives. 
Then a lively " scrimmage " takes place, in which more 
than once the officers, after drawing their hangers, not 
only have them taken away by force, but have their epau- 
lets torn off and trampled under foot. To his honor, 
General Gage is very indignant when his officers behave 
so unbecomingly. He does all he can ; but there is " an 
irrepressible conflict " going on, and he is carried along in 
the current as helplessly as a baby. 



110 AROUND THE HUB. 

If we may believe report it is not long since an odd 
adventure happened to some of his Majesty's officers who 
were out taking a stroll on Beacon Hill after sunset. 
The first they knew something whizzed close to their 
heads. Then the air was filled with buzzing noises 
which they took to be bullets flying from unseen guns. 
They could not imagine these noises were made by the big 
dor-beetle, which is so stupid and so helpless, but, taking 
to their heels, these valiant sons of Mars fied down the 
hill into the camp, where they spread the report that they 
had been shot at by Yankee air-guns. And this ridicu- 
lous story was actually written home to England as sober 
truth. Some pretend that the Americans possess a magic 
powder, which explodes without making any report at 
all. 

That celebrated wit, McFingal, did not lose such a 
chance as this to satirize the officers in verse : — 

" No more the British colonel runs 
From whizzing beetles as air-guns ; 
Thinks horn-bugs bullets, or thro' fear 
Musketoes takes for musketeers: 
Nor 'scapes as if you'd gained supplies 
From Beelzebub's whole host of flies, 
No bug these warlike hearts appals ; 
They better knew the sound of balls." 



BRITISH LINKS ON BOSTON NECK. 

IX. 

A GARRISONED TOWN. 

1\ yrOEE troops. More bayonets. The 59th disembarks. 
General Gage sends it at once to fortify Boston 
Neck. The whole colony is now intensely excited by the 
presence of the British army, for army it is. It is arming. 
It is getting its blood up. Nothing will bring so high a 
price as a musket, a sword, or a cannon. Everywhere 
regiments of minute-men are forming and drilling. The 
village parsons are in the ranl^s with the rest. Plahily, it 
is going to be bayonet against bayonet, brother against 
brother. So General Gage is fortifying. He scents war. 

The Eoyal Welsh Fusileers arrive, and go into camp on 
Fort Hill. Now troops are coming thick and fast, — from 
New York, from Quebec, from Newfoundland, from Ire- 
land. The 64th takes possession of and garrisons the Castle. 
The Eoyal Marine Battalion is quartered in the North 
End. A guard is placed at the Charlestown Ferry, a 
frigate anchored in the channel, and every night the ferry- 
boats are taken alongside so that deserters cannot get out, 



112 AKOUND THE HUB. 

or rebels get in. The 47tli, the 52d, the 10th, and part of 
the 18th agaui strongly remforce the army. Nothmg 
now but bugles and drums and the tramp of armed men 
from morn till night. General Gage has seized the 
powder and cannon belonging to the province. He is dis- 
arming the Bostonians. But Yankee wit and Yankee 
courage rise with the emergency. The Bostonians seize 
and spirit away under the very noses of his grand army 
the cannon belonging to their artillery company. Two 
can play at that game. This is the way it was done. 

The gun-house, where the cannon were kept, stood 
opposite the Mall, at the corner of West Street, and of 
course opposite the camp of the Kuig's Own. There was 
then a noble elm-tree on this spot. The next building- 
was a schoolhouse. Both buildings were enclosed by the 
same fence, — a high one. 

Paddock, the Tory major, had been overheard to say 
he would deliver his guns to General Gage. As a precau- 
tion General Gage posted sentinels around the gun-house 
until he should be ready to remove the two field-pieces. 
But the thought that they were in danger never, perhaps, 
entered his mind. 

One morning when the British artillerymen came to 
take them away, what was their astonishment to find them 
missing. There, to be sure, were the carriages ; but where 
the guns ? 

" They 're gone ! I '11 be hanged if these rebels won't 



A GAKRISONED TOWN. 



ii: 



steal the teeth out of your head, and you keeping guard ! " 
roared the sergeant. 

Yet the sentmels swore they had neither seen nor heard 
anything, although one of them was placed at the gun- 
house door. 

The bold fellows, who had resolved that General Gage 
should not have the guns, but the Americans should 
have them by hook or by crook, got 
into the yard through the schoolhouse. 
Once in the yard they lifted the latch 
of the gun-house door through a crev- 
ice, and stole m on tiptoe. Still and 
watchful, they waited until the sentry 
at the outer door had his attention 
taken off by the roll-call in the cam]). 
Then silently lifting the guns off their 
carriages the workmen quickly carried 
them into the schoolhouse, putting them 
mto a large box in which fire-wood the guns " hancock 

T , rni . 1 1 j_i AND ADAMS." 

was kept. ihis box was under the 

master's desk. They then stole away, leaving everything 

as they found it. 

Well, the guns were missed. Search was instantly 
made. The soldiers went into the school-room, but out of 
consideration for the master, who had a lame foot, which 
he carefully kept on the wood-box, they did not disturb 
that. Several school-boys were present who knew just 




114 AROUND THE HUB. 

where the guns were hid, but they did not lisp one word, 
nor did they, during the fortnight the guns remained there, 
betray the secret. So much for the Boston boys. 

At the end of this time the guns were carried to a 
blacksmitli's shop at the South End and buried under a 
coal-heap. Afterwards they were safely taken to the 
American lines. The carriages were left in the gun-house 
for General Gage. 

AVith the same secrecy and adroitness the Americans 
carried off the cannon from the battery at Charlestown, 
under the guns of the men-of-war. They are working like 
beavers to collect warlike stores at Watertown, Concord, 
and Worcester. Thousands of bullets and thousands of 
cartridges are sent out by the Bostonians, concealed under 
loads of manure. 

Boston is now crowded with troops and with Tory refu- 
gees from the country. Winter is coming, and the general 
must get his soldiers under cover. He must have barracks. 
But to have barracks he must first have lumber and bricks, 
and next he must have laborers to build them. The people 
will neither sell to him nor work for him. If they can 
freeze the soldiers out, so much the worse for the soldiers. 
So for some time longer, and far into the winter, the red- 
coats shiver in their tents, and curse the Yankees who are 
the cause. Many sicken, many run away, and not a few 
die and are buried at the foot of the Common. ^ 

1 Their bones now moulder there, in the burial-ground enclosed' 
at the angle formed by Boylston and Charles Streets. 



A GAKKISONED TOWN. 115 

As we are still in the neighborhood of the Common, let 
■us see what is going on there. To-day a deserter who has 
been caught is to suffer the sentence of a court-martial. 
It is a cruel sentence. He is to be shot to death. In the 
presence of the whole army the unfortunate is taken to the 
place of execution, at the foot of the Common, and after 
being blindfolded and pinioned, and after receiving the 
prayers of the chaplain, is pierced with balls. His lifeless 
body is then stretched bleeding upon a cofiln, while the 
whole army marches past. 

Every fine day the troops are drilled and exercised in 
firing at a target. When they begin shooting Yankees 
they mean to do execution. A big target is placed in the 
river at the foot of the Common at which they fire. One 
day a countryman who had strayed to this place stood by, 
laughing heartily to see a whole regiment fire at the target 
without hitting it. This made the soldiers angry. 

" What are you laughing at, sirrah ? " exclaimed the 
officer in command. 

"You'll be mad if I tell, gineral," drawled the rustic. 

"No; speak out." 

" Why then, cunnel, I laugh to see them fire so blamed 
awkward. Why, I '11 be bound I hit that mark ten times 
running." 

" Ah ! will you ? We shall see. Here, corporal, bring 
five of the best guns, and load them for this honest man." 

" You need n't bring so many, major ; one 's a plenty. 



116 AROUND THE HUB. 

Haw ! haw ! Give me the first that 's handy. But all the 
same to yew, captmg, I choose to load it myself." 

He accordingly loaded, and having done so, asked the 
officer, "Wa'al, naow, lootenant, where shall I shoot?" 

'•'To the right." 

Bang went the piece. The soldiers ran up. The ball 
pierced the target to the right of the bull's-eye. The 
officer, amazed, declared the Yankee could not do it again. 
It was a chance shot, he said. The countryman chuckled 
to himself and again charged his gun. 

"Where shall I fire?" 

" To the left." 

The countryman drove his bullet in the exact spot. 

" Come ! once more," urged the officer. 

" Where naow ? " asked the cool fellow. 

" In the centre." 

The third bullet struck exactly in the centre of the tar- 
get. The soldiers stood aghast, and well they might. If 
this awkward, ungainly fellow in homespun had been 
shootmg at them and they at him, he would have killed 
a man at every shot. But shooting at men is different 
from shooting at a mark. 

" Why, sargunt," said the marksman, " I 've got a boy 
tew hum that will toss up an apple and shoot out the 
seeds as it comes down." 

We now begin to hear of Haldimand, of Pigot, of Pres- 
cott, Howe, Clinton, and Burgoyne. The levees at the 



A GAEEISONED TOWN. 117 

Province House grow more frequent and more brilliant. 
The bands give concerts and the officers' balls at Concert 
Hall which the Tory gentry only will attend. Faneuil 
Hall is to be turned into a theatre, and General Burgoyne 
has graciously promised to write a play taking off the 
Yankees. A play indeed ! There will be one of another 
kind presently. 

The officers at first live sumptuously on the fat of the 
land. Gold has no smell, and the country people who 
bring chickens and geese and turkeys, fresh eggs and but- 
ter and vegetables, into town are glad enough to get it. 

These same officers also get, from the ships that arrive, 
turtles and pineapples and wine, and many a good thing 
besides. A jolly time over their mess-tables they have, 
giving each other dinners, drinking the healths of the 
pretty Boston girls, cracking jokes, and sneering at the 
Yankee heroes, as they contemptuously call them. 

Captain Harris of the 5th falls over head and ears in love 
with a Miss Coffin and facetiously says he has found a 
coffin for his heart. So between balls, dinners, and 
reviews they idle away the time. " If ' Tommy ' would 
only give us a chance at these insolent vagabonds ! " they 
exclaim, " if he only would ! '' 



X. 

FANEUIL HALL AND THE NEIGHBORHOOD. 

TT7ELL, "Tommy" did at last give them a chance. 
On the 19th of April, 1775, he very secretly, as he 
thought, sent off' a battalion of seven or eight hundred 
picked men to destroy the warlike stores the Ameri- 
cans had collected at Concord. While they are on the 
way let us look over the North End of the town, the most 
seditious and turbulent portion of it. 

Choosing for our starting-point the Brattle Street 
Church, 1 in which Doctor Cooper vigorously preaches 
liberty up and prays tyranny down, and in which John 
Hancock goes to meetmg, we speedily get into the region 
known as Dock Square, from the fact that the oldest 
landing-place, now widened, and skirted by wharves, is 
here. 

We are facing the water-side. At our left, forming an 
angle, the old building shown in the first chapter has a 

' This building was taken down several years ago to make way 
for the splendid block of stores now on the same site. It stood facing 
up Brattle Street, occupying the corner and angle made by Brattle 
Square. 



FANEUIL HALL AND THE NEIGHBORHOOD. 



119 



special quaintness of its own. It is nicknamed The Old 
Cocked Hat. Even now it is getting out of date, and 
looks queerly, with its diminutive windows and its front 




15 RATTLE STREET CHURCH. 



covered over with coarse plaster in which gravel and 
broken glass are mixed, and in which we see the year of 
its erection — 1680. 

But a larger and far more imposing structure at the 
right attracts our attention. We are before Faneuil Hall, 
only the town market-house, yet a building destined, if 
such a thing can be said of a pile of brick and mortar. 



120 



AKOUXD THE HUB. 




CANNON-BALL IN 
WINDOW.^ 



to make a noise in the world. From the centre of the 
roof rises a lofty tower, and on the summit of the tower a 
gilded grasshopper does duty as a 
weather-vane. 

Some people think this grass- 
hopper is there because it was the 
old Athenian symbol. But it is 
not so. The Athenians, it is true, 
reverenced this insect, which, like 
man, came forth from the earth 
itself, and so was typical of him. 
But the fact probably is that when 
Peter Faneuil,^ who so generously 
gave the hall to the town, and who was a rich merchant, 
came to consult with the architect, the Eoyal Exchange 
of London was taken for a model. The founder of this 
building, Sir Thomas Gresham, had mounted a grass- 
hopper upon it, and Smybert, the architect of Faneuil 
Hall, an Englishman, and a painter of some note, too, very 
likely had this in mind. 

The open space around Faneuil Hall is used as a market- 
place, and the railings are conveniently there for the 
country-people to hitch their horses to when they come 
in with their produce, or for the people of the town to tie 

' The engraving shows a cannon-ball that struck the wall when 
Washington opened his batteries on the town. 

2 Alwaj's pronounced " Funnel," even within the writer's remem- 
brance, l)v old people. 



FANEUIL HALL AND THE NEIGHBORHOOD. 



121 



their nags to when they come to town-meeting ; for this is 
now also the town-house in consequence of the Court 
House m King Street having long been too small to accom- 




FANEUIL HALL. 

modate courts, and legislatures, and town officials, together. 
But Faneuil built this house, and gave it to the town to 
be used as a market and for holding town-meetings. It 
was a very munificent gift. And thus the town-meetings, 
beginning here in this period of great political excitement,' 
will give immortality to the name of Faneuil Hall.i 

■ During the siege the British garrison relieved the monotony of 
the winter by turning Faneuil Hall into a theatre, in which they had 
concerts and plays twice a week, the performers being officers assisted 
by their lady Iriends. One night, while a farce by General Burc^oyne 
called the Blockade of Boston, was being acted, the Americans made 



122 AKOUND THE HUB. 

The fire of January 13, 1763, destroyed the whole 
interior, but the town promptly voted to rebuild, and the 

^ Boston Jufie 1765. * 

^ Fatieuii'llM LOTTERY, No. Five, * 

4t ^1 HE PofTcffor of this Ticket (No 3^^S^ ) ^ 

j|^ it iatitlcd to aojr Prize drawa againd faid ^ 

Number, io a Lottery granted by an Aft of ^ 

the General Court of the Pror'mcc of xhciyjafachufettt- ^ 

Bay, for Rcbsildiog FAMEUib-HAkb ; fubjcdt to bo 

proN'ince government at once authorized the town to raise 
funds to do this by a lottery.^ No time was lost. In 
March the house was agam ready for public business, and 

a sortie and set fire to several bouses in Cliarlestown that bad escaped 
tbe general conflagration and were now occupied by the enemy. A 
tremendous firing immediately began from tbe redoubts on Bunker 
Hill, where everything was in confusion. Hearing this uproar, the 
sentry stationed at the door of the play-house rushed upon the stage, 
vociferating, " Turn out ! turn out ! They 're hard at it, hammer and 
tong.s." The audience, supposing the sergeant was acting a part, loudly 
applauded, and it was some time before the amazed fellow could be 

lu'urd. When he could he shouted, " What the d are ye all 

about ? If ye won't belave me, be St. Patrick ye need only go to the 
door, and there ye '11 hear and see both." 

The audience immediately rose in consternation. They had not 
calculated upon the Americans taking so prominent a part. 

' Lotteries are now prohibited, but no one then thought them 
vicious, and people who would not (jivc a penny Avould take the 
chance of gaining a prize. 



FANEUIL HALL AND THE NEIGHBORHOOD. 123 

at a meeting to celebrate the event it was again dedicated 
in an eloquent speech )jy James Otis, the most eloquent 
Bostonian of his day. 

We have said a good deal about the English soldiery. 
As Faneuil Hall became the rendezvous of the citizen 
soldiery, let us briefly review them, and see how they com- 
pare with regulars. 

The Common was their training-ground, recollect, from 
the tune of the first Puritan muster. 

By the side of the well-uniformed British regulars our 
militia, we fear, had formerly made a very mean appear- 
ance. But with tlie growth of a military spirit they began 
to emulate them, — to pay attention to their own disci- 
pline, tlieir dress, their arms. 

The companies of the Boston or Suffolk Regiment were 
all uniformed in blue, each company having its drummers 
and lifers dressed in white. The regiment also had a 
company of grenadiers, dressed in red, the same as the 
British regiments had. It had also a band of music, of 
eight pieces, that was thought by the partial Bostonilns 
to perform as well as the British bands. 

There was also the Cadet Company, the crack corps of 
them all, having its own band. It was commanded by 
Colonel John Hancock ; but when General Gage began to 
put his master's tyrannous edicts in force he dismissed 
Colonel Hancock, and so the company indignantly voted to 
disband, and sent their colors to the general in token that 



124 AROUND THE HUB. 

they would no more be foot-guards of his. For they were 
a kind of privileged corps, and were called the Governor's 
Guards. 

Then there was Paddock's company of artillery, with 
four field-pieces. And there was also the Ancient and 
Honorable Artillery Company, the oldest military organi- 
zation in the whole country, going way back to the Puritan 
times, and having special field-days of its own. This was 
also a well-uniformed and well-disciplined body of men, 
the same as the others. ^ Why, some of its commanders 
had fought with the great Cromwell, and had helped to 
make and unmake kings. Old eyes and young eyes 
sparkled when the drums of the Ancients, beatmg from 
street to street, called the company to assemble for 
parade. 

But now their old training-ground, the Common, is in 
possession of the British troops. They are prohibited 
from entermg it. Still, they are determined to parade, as 
usual, on their annual field-day. They turn out with full 
ranks and march to Copp's Hill, into a piece of ground of 
which they are the owners. 

The British frigate Lively is moored in the ferry-way, — 
we know for what purpose. As the Ancients march 
proudly up the hill, in full view, the boatswain's whistle 
pipes its shrill call, " All hands on deck ! " The ports fly 

' We hope to see a revival of its old traditions in this distin- 
guished corps, at no distant day. 



FANEUIL HALL AND THE NEIGHBORHOOD. 



125 



open and the guns are run out. The jack-tars run to the 
guns. The marines inan the (juarter-deck and scramble 
hastily up mto the round tops. They think the Yankees 
are surely coming to exchange compliments with them in 
their own kind— powder and ball, shot and shell. AVhat 




NEW FANEUIL HALL. 

a jolly fright they are in at this apparition of only fifty 
Ancients in arms! And how these audacious rebels 
split their sides laughing ! 

The commander of the Ancients was asked, 

" What would you have done if a body of British troops 



126 AROUND THE HUB. 

had opposed your entrance to Copp's Hill, as they had op- 
posed your marching into the Common?" 

" I would have given the order to ' Fix bayonets.' " 
" Well, what then ? " 

" I would have ordered my men to charge ; and I would 
have forced my way at the point of the bayonet, as surely 
as I would into my own house if it were in possession of 
a gang of thieves." 

Well answered, gallant Captain Bell. Talk about the 
" King's Own " ! This martial band is the " People's 
Own." 

So we see that the boys in l)lue are not a bit afraid of 
the boys in red. But we shudder, all the same, to think 
how soon they will cross bayonets on the field of battle. 

To return to Faneuil Hall. Well, when the Bostonians 
were ordered to surrender their arms, they came here, very 
sorrowfully, to hand them over to the officer appointed by 

General Gage. 

But we cannot loiter. Wc 
must on to other scenes. Let us 
then turn to the left and walk 
through Union Street, stopping 
III before we reach Hanover to look 
at Boston Stone. ^ The stones, 

1 This is now seen solidly imbedded in the rear wall of the build- 
ing iVi)iiting Hanover Street, but approached at the back from i\Iar- 
shair.s Lane. 




FANEUIL HALL AND THE NEIGHBORHOOD. 127 

for there are two, consist of a globe, and an oblong block, 
with a cavity into which the globe exactly fits. They were 
originally used for grinding paint, but came, in time, to be 
spoken of as Boston Stone, from the famous London Stone 
in Cannon Street. 

In a very ancient English poem by John Lydgate, he 
says : — 

" Then went I I'urtli l)y Loiulon Stone, 

Throughout all Canwick Street ; 
Drapers much cloth me offered anon ; 

Then comes me one cried hot sheep's feet ; 
One cried mackerel, rushes green, another gave greet ; 

One bade me buy a hood to cover my head ; 
But for want of money I might not be sped." ^ 

Were we to look- in at the shop-window of an old Ijrick 
building making the turning from Union Street into Mar- 
shall's Lane we should probably see a young man of two 
and twenty, or thereabouts, either waiting upon, or wait- 
ing for a customer to walk into the shop. His name ? 
Benjamin Thompson. Not a very high-sounding one, to 
be sure ; but when you learn that he afterwards took that 
of Count Ptumford, the case is altered. 2 

Not forgetting that Franklin's father lived at the upper 
corner of Union Street, we will cross over Hanover toward 

1 See also Jack Cade, Act IV., Scene VI. 

2 The old building, occupied as an oyster-house, is still standing. 
You can easily learn something ahcmt this very eminent personage 
that I have not room to tell. 



128 AROUND THE HUB. 

the Mill Pond, in which the boy Franklin sailed his chip 
boats. 

The boy Benjamin Franklin has already fought and 
won his way to places of high honor, notwithstanding his 
parents were very poor, humble people. Let him tell us 
how he gained an education in his own words. 

When Franklin returned from England — he was then a 
very young man — the captain of tlie vessel in which he 
had come put a note into his hands. Ben opened it and 
read : — 

" G. Burnet's compliments await young Mr. Franklin, 
and should be glad of half an hour's chat with him over a 
glass of wine." 

" G. Burnet," said Ben aloud. " Who is G. Burnet ? " 

" Why," replied the captain, with a smile at Ben's puz- 
zled looks, " ' t is the governor himself wishes to see you ; 
no other." 

So to the governor's Ben went. After astounding His 
Excellency with the extent of his information the gov- 
ernor asked him, — 

" Well, and pray at what college did you study Locke on 
the Understanding, at thirteen ? " 

" Why, sir, it was my misfortune never to be at a college, 
nor even at a grammar school, except nine months." 

Here the governor sprang from his seat, and, staring at 
Ben, cried out, " The deuce ! Well, where then — where 
did you get your education, pray ? " 



130 



AROUND THE HUB. 



" At home, sir. In a tallow-cliaiidler's shop." 
" In a tallow-chandlers shop ? " screamed the governor. 
" Yes, sir. My father was a poor old taUow-chandler, 
with sixteen children, and I the youngest of all. At eight 
he put me to school, but, finding he could not spare the 
money from the rest of the children to keep me there, he 
took me home into the shop, where I assisted him by 
twisting candle-wicks and filling the moulds all day, and at 
night I read by myself. At twelve my father bound me to 
my brother, a printer, in Boston. With him I worked 
hard all day at the press and the cases, and again read by 
myself at night." 




SIGN OF THE GREEN DRAGON. 



The governor could not believe this story until he asked 
the captain, who confirmed every word of it. 

Here on the west side of Union Street is a two-story 



FANEUIL HALL AND THE NEIGHBOKHOOD. 131 

brick house. From the front projects an iron rod, on 
which crouches a dragon, of copper. The house is cer- 
tainly a tavern. Yes, it is the already famous Green 
Dragon. ^ 

But first let us brieliy refer to the custom of celebrating 
the anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot, 2 which is here 
called Pope Day. Young Boston is as loyal and fully as 
boisterous as Young London, which has its orgie, too, 
finished by burning the Pope at Temple Bar as the" Boston 
Pope is on Copp's Hill. The occasion served a double 
purpose, because it afforded a coveted opportunity for 
North End and South End to have a pitched battle in the 
streets. We do not know how this strange animosity be- 
tween these two sections of the town may have originated, 
but it was a very bitter and determined one until the Eev- 
olution gave both parties a worthier object for their 
surplus pugnacity. But until then a South End boy 
hardly dared show his head in the North End ; and vice 
versa, a North End boy would think twice before ventur- 
ing into the enemy's territory. Such was the feeling of 
the sections. 3 

^Though the original building is gone the site is easily identified 
l^tj^ tablet .n the wall of the present one, having a d^n l^- 

' Your English History will tell what this was 
know V' ^"^''^^^^"ntable animosity quite lately existed, as the writer 
knows irom experience, between the boys of the Norti End and the 
Charlestown boys. It even included voung men 



132 AROUND THE HUB. 

On Pope Day each section had its own procession, each 
being pretty sure to encounter the other in its route ; and 
when the rivals did meet, a battle with fists, stones, and 
sticks ensued to see which could capture the other's Pope, 
or Pageant, as it was called. The North End Pope was 
never, it is said, taken but once. 

Some planks were laid on wheels, on which was placed 
an effigy of the Pope, with the devil at his elbow, both 
being dressed to look as hideous as possible. After parad- 
ing through the principal streets a bonfire was built in 
which the mock Pope, and strange to say, the devil too, 
were burnt to a cinder. You see, altogether, what was 
first intended perhaps to be a very patriotic, grew to be a 
very foolish and disgraceful, affair. But we are relating, 
not excusing it. It was a custom. 

Once, it is said, wdien the clumsy carriage of the South 
End Pope broke down, young Harry Knox, in order to 
prevent the disgrace which would surely follow its cap- 
ture, putting his own muscular shoulder in the place of 
the broken wheel, bore the vehicle off in triumph, amid 
the yells and jeers of the combatants. 

The Green Dragon was the muster-place of the North 
Enders for this mock parade. But something far more 
serious is now going on there. 

Now, while General Gage and his officers are deliberat- 
ing, planning, and workuig at the Province House how to 
forge their fetters more and more strongly, counter-plotting 



FANEUIL HALL AND THE NEIGHBORHOOD. 133 

is going on, and treason hatching in the Green Dragon by 
the patriotic mechanics of this part of the town. These 
men were the muscle of the Eevohition. Joseph Warren, 
a young physician, was their adored leader. He cliose 
Paul Eevere to be his right-hand man, for his daring, his 
prudence, and his decision of character. 

It is their object to learn what General Gage means to 
do, and if possible to frustrate it. For tliis purpose they 
hold secret meetings, to which no one is admitted until he 
takes a solemn oath on the Bible not to reveal anything 
that may be said or done except to such well-known and 
trusted leaders as Sanniel Adams, Hancock, or Warren. 
But a traitor is among them, although they do not know it. 
A hundred eyes narrowly watch the soldiers, night and 
day. Spies are even in tlie Province House itself. They 
expect and are intently watching for some hostile act. 
They are a Vigilance Committee, — all eyes and ears, but 
close as the tomb. 

So, General Gage, you had hardly given the order for the 
grenadiers aud light infantry of the army to march to 
Concord, before it was known to these men, who are 
sworn to defeat your plans. 

And they are fully as determined, and much more con- 
fident in the righteousness of their cause, than yourself. 

All this time the Massachusetts Provmcial Congress, 
sittmg at Cambridge, or Watertown, is organizing its 
army. They mean that King George III., Lord North, 



134 AKOUND THE HUB. 

and General Gage, their weapon, shall understand that 
when it comes to " crushing out," two can play at that 
game. Already Gage has blustered and threatened, 
already they have been called " traitors " and " rebels " ; 
still they are no less determined. Hard words are nothing 
to the hard knocks that are coming. All they ask is that 
their friends in Boston will not let the soldiers steal a 
march upon them. We shall see that those friends will 
not fail. They are true as steel. Great Britain is great, 
but the spirit of liberty is far greater. For this will men 
do and dare everything. 

Cunning general ! He relieved from duty, several days 
ago, the soldiers he meant to send out to destroy the stores 
at Concord. The soldiers knew at once that this meant 
there was something else in the wind besides mounting 
guard and drilling. The inhabitants knew it as well as 
they. It was their notice to be more watchful than ever. 
They redoubled their vigilance. Crafty General Gage ! 
A pretty mess you have made of it, to be sure. 

At any rate, on Saturday, April 16, the very day follow- 
ing the order not to put the grenadiers and light infantry 
on duty, Warren sent his trusty Eevere with a message to 
Hancock and Adams, who were then at Lexington. While 
on his way back, Eevere planned with some friends in 
Charlestown how to give them intelligence of troops 
marching into the country. This was necessary, for every 
avenue was now so strictly guarded that he did not feel 



FANEUIL HALL AND THE NEIGHBORHOOD. 135 

sure a messenger would be able to get out of the town 
with the news. 

Opposite to where they stood, lifted high above Copp's 
Hill, was the steeple of the North Episcopal, or Christ 
Church. 

" If the British go out by water, we will show two 
lanterns in yonder tower; and if by land, one," said 
Eevere to his friends. 

" Agreed, and we will watch the ferry here, while our 
friends watch Eoxbury side. If the British get out with- 
out our knowmg it, they will catch a weasel asleep, that's 
all." 

" Good ! " Paul Eevere then returned across the river 
to give an account of his doings to Dr. Warren. 

Although the town was gettmg too hot to hold such as 
he, yet, because convmced that he could better serve the 
patriot cause by remaming in Boston, he did so. 

On Tuesday evening, the 18th, at the hour fixed upon, 
the soldiers, leavmg theii' barracks, marched silently to 
the rendezvous at the foot of the Common. It is clear as 
day that the long-expected blow is going to fall. 

Of course these troops did not march unseen. The 
mhabitants saw them; and what is more, they guessed 
where they were going and what was their errand. They 
gathered in little knots in the streets, and very earnestly 
discussed the danger theu' friends were m. 

With his pickets on the Neck, his guards at the ferry, 



136 AKOUXD THE HUB. 

and his watches on board the men-of-war, General Gage 
thinks Boston is a trap of which he alone holds the key. 

But at ten o'clock at night, after the troops had set out, 
Earl Percy, coming from the Province House, where he 
had been closeted with his general, ran across Ihese 
groups of the townspeople conversing with great anima- 
tion. One said, loud enough for the earl to hear : — 

" The British troops have marched, but will miss their 
aim." 

" "What aim ? " asked the earl, very much surprised. 

" The cannon at Concord," was the reply. 

Lord Percy instantly turned on his heel, and went back 
to tell General Gage what he liad heard. 

" Ah ! " exclaimed the amazed chief, " I have been 
betrayed ! " 

No, General, you are only outwitted. 

With the cannon and stores at Concord, and the troops 
in Boston, it was really no difficult matter for the Bos- 
tonians to put this and that together, even if nobody had 
let the cat out of the bag. 

At ten o'clock Warren sent in haste for Picvere. 
Pievere must ride to Lexington, post-haste, see Hancock 
and Adams, and warn them to be on their guard. Of 
course, the British column, on its march, must pass 
through LexinQ;ton. 

Ptevere hurries off to get ready. But, as he may not be 
able to give the guards the slip, he thinks of the signal 



FANEUIL HALL AND THE NEIGHBORHOOD. 137 

agreed upon. He first sees a friend whom he can trust, 
and gets him to make the signal. Then he picks up two 
more friends, and together they glide like shadows down 
the grass-grown wharf, draw a canoe from its hiding-place, 
and with muffled oars push out upon the dark river, over 
which the rising moon is just beginning to shed a pale 
lustre, and over which the huge black hulks of the ships 
of war rise threateningly. Their hearts beat quickly as 
they pass within hail. All's safe. They pass unseen, 
and in a few moments more land. 

" We have seen your signals," exclaimed the watchers. 
" Look there ! " 

And there, sure enough, from the dusky steeple the two 
warning lights shone out bright and clear. Now for Lex- 
ington. They bring Eevere a beast of good mettle. He 
leaps into the saddle, puts spurs to his horse, and darkness 
closes around him. The steed with eyes of flame, sparks 
flymg from his iron hoofs, his belly to the ground, the rider 
with pmched lips, eyes piercing the night, and bent eagerly 
over the saddle-bow, as if his own imi3atience oiTtran 
that of his flymg courser, are incarnate messengers of war. 
The pickets set to stop him he leaves behind. Then away 
again ! " Up and arm ! " he shouts. " Up and arm ! " echoes 
through the silent village-streets, affrighting the startled 
yeomen from their slumbers. -Up and arm!" comes 
faintly back, as rider and steed vanish out of sight. 
Shout, Eevere ! The hour is come. Your voice is the 



138 - AROUND THE HUB. 

signal for war. Kide hard ! life and death are in your 
speed. 

And as the regulars march along in the cool of the 
morning, to the right, to the left, in front, they hear 
the clang of alarm-bells and the noLse of gunshots. In 
the houses, which look silent as the tomb, men are hur- 
riedly buckling on weapons, snatching a mouthful of food, 
or whispering hasty farewells. The women are pale, but 
helpful and resolute. The crisis has indeed come. All 
Middlesex is up in arms. 

What a sunple-mmded old gentleman you are, General- 
Gage, to be sure i 



XI. 

THE OLD NORTH END. 

TNSTEAD of keeping on down Middle Street, as the 
lower end of Hanover Street is called, we now cross 
the Mill Creek by a bridge, and, turning to the left, take 
€ur way through Back or Salem Street. 

This Mill Creek, as we see from the bridge, is a narrow 
water-course, connecting the Mill Pond at our left with 
the harbor at our right. Boats pass through it. 

In a few minutes the ground begms to ascend. Eising 
in front of us is the high tower and pointed steeple of 
Christ Church, — the church which has played so impor- 
tant a part in the march to Lexington and Concord.^ 

^ Inserted in the masonry of the tower-front is a tablet with this 
inscription : — 

The Signal Lanterns of 

Paul Revere, 

Displayed in the Steeple of this Church, 

April 18, 1775, 

Warned the Country of the March 

Of the British Troops 

To Lexington and Concord. 



140 



AROUND THE HUB. 



As we walk along, many of the houses are occupied 
by British officers, who have hired them, or — unfrequent- 

ly, we think, for 
here the people 
are true blue, al- 
most to a man — 
have obtained 
lodgings with the 
family. We see 
them going in and 
out. We see them 
at the windows, 
nodding and sa- 
luting their ]jroth- 
er officers who are 
passing along the 
street. Those in 
the street are 
ogling the girls 
at the windows. 
And now and then, noticmg a sentinel pacmg before a 
door, we know it to be the residence of some officer of rank. 
Seeing how the neighborhood is thus crowded with red- 
coats, we are amazed at the boldness of giving signals from 
this steeple, and cannot refuse our admiration for the act. 

But now, as we approach nearer to the church, a silvery 
chime breaks forth from the tower. List to the sweet 




CHRIST CHLKLil. 



THE OLD NORTH END. 141 

clamor of the bells ! Ding, dong, diiig ! There is music 
ill the air. V\'e stop and listen to these iron tongues and 
these brazen throats loudly singing the old, old hymns. 
Though it reminds us of it, this church-tower is far better 
than the heathen statue in which music was concealed. 
Thirty years ago, one Christmas morn, tliese bells rang 
out their first peal. Long may their tuneful echoes be 
wafted by the breeze above the house-tops of the living 
and the dead ! 

Yet, for all this, some of the common people, who do 
not like the Episcopal Church one bit more than their 
Puritan ancestors did, shake their heads when they hear 
the chimes. They tell us, and really believe too, that 
these bells were blessed by the Pope of Pome, and have, 
therefore, power to dispel evil spirits. These are old 
wives' tales, you will say. No, they are relics of a super- 
stition, dying very slowly, but dying. 

Let us enter. A cool light comes in through the win- 
dows, dhnly illuminating the interior. We feel awed and 
sul)dued. because it is a temple consecrated to the Deity. 
Everything is stiff, stately, and formal. The pews are 
high, straight-backed, and as uncomfortable as can be. 
The pulpit-base is a gilded cluster of feathers, resembling 
a Corinthian capital. The chandeliers hanging from the 
vaulted roof, and those little images of saints decorating 
the organ-loft, are trophies of war, taken from a French 
vessel that was carrving them to some cathedral in a 



142 AROUND THE HUB. 

foreign land. The Bible and prayer-book, the com- 
munion vessels of silver, are gifts of his most gracious 
majesty, George II., whose monogram adorns them. 
Now the organ peals ; the rector, clad in his immaculate 
white surplice and his l3ands, advancing to the sacred 
desk, begins the service. 

This clergyman is still young. He is the son of the 
Rev. Mather Byles, whom we have already visited. When 
he prays for the king and the royal family, it is with such 
earnestness that we at once know him for a Loyalist. Per- 
haps there is a tremor in his voice, for blood has flowed all 
along the road to Lexington and Concord, Well may his 
voice falter a little.^ 

From Christ Church we will wend our way first to the 
top of Copp's Hill, which is in part occupied by one of 
our most ancient cemeteries. Let us take this street turn- 
ing to the left, Hull Street. In this old ground, covered 
with a heavy slab of freestone, which years have rounded 

1 It was the common custom to inter under the old churches. 
The body of Major Pitcairn, killed at Bunker Hill, was placed in a 
vault here. On the fly-leaf of a prayer-book, used in this church, 
I once read, " Major Pitcairn's compliments to the gentleman over- 
head, and begs he will not snore so loud, as he disturbs his slum- 
bers." 

Janson, an English traveller, says he went down into the crypt 
beneath the church. He saw there the skeletons of a number of 
British officers who fell at Bunker Hill. They were not in coffins, 
but piled one upon another, with their faded regimentals hanging in 
tatters about them. 



THE OLD NORTH END. 



143 




TOMB OF THE MATHERS. 



at the edges, is the tomb of the Mathers, Increase and 
Cotton, father and son, who, during theii- lives, were dis- 
tinguished for learning, piety, 
and usefuhiess, above most of 
the men of their day and gen- 
eration. And these two men 
are a part of the times in 
which they lived, and with 
which they had so much to do. 
In their day no two men were 
more revered. None will live longer in our history. Around 
them moulder the bones of many generations. ^ 

This hill is the playground of the North End boys. It 
is also the promenade of the older people, who delight to 

1 This tomb, which is always the first visited, marks the central 
portion of the old, original burying-place, now much enlarged by 
successive additions. In the slab covering the vault a square of slate 
IS inserted, on Avhich is cut : 

"Keverend Drs. Ixckease, Cotton, and Samuel Mather were 
interred in this vault. 
'T IS THE Tomb of our Fathers Mather. — Crockers. 
I. Died Aug. 27, 1723. JEt 84. 
C. Died Feb. 13, 1727. ^t 65. 
S. Died June 27, 1785. ^Et 79." 
Samuel, the last named, was the son of Cotton 
Among the thickset stones we can pick out "those first used to 
mark a grave. They are mere boulders taken from the seashore, and 
roughly cut on one surface with the name, age, and date of the 
deceased person. Of this kind is the stone of Nicholas UpshaU, 
the Quaker tavern-keeper of the North End. 



144 



AROUND THE HUB. 



walk here in the cool of the evening, when the sea-breeze 
fans the heated air. Here ended the Pope Day celebra- 
tions with bonfires and huzzas. And from here, in plain 
view, rise the green heights of Charlestown, with the town 
and shipping at their feet. 

Lookuig down upon the shining surface of the river, a 

warlike ship, brave with 
flags, swings slowly with the 
tide. Boats are passing be- 
tween the shores under the 
guns of this ship. On what- 
ever side we turn, we see the 
town tlireatened by cannon. 
And to think that the word 
of one man can drench all 
this fair scene in blood ! 

Hull Street, which conducted us to the cemetery, is so 
named for John Hull, who coined the silver money for 
the colony so long ago. It is one of the old-time stories 
that when his daughter Judith married, she received her 
own weight in silver shillings for a wedding portion. So 
she was worth her weight in silver at least. Copp is a 
family name. We read it on the gravestones, bent with 
age. 

But this eminence is now put to other uses than for the 
burial of the dead. The northern end, fronting Charles- 
town, is disfigured by an earthwork newly thrown up, 




THE GLASGOW. 



THE OLD NORTH END. 145 

from which the muzzles of cannon threaten the opposite 
shore. This battery is that of the Eoyal Artillery. These 
guns are destined to play a part in the near future.^ 

We cannot delay here, for events hasten, and so must we. 
Descendmg from the hill-top to the side opposite that l)y 
which we entered, Charter Street conducts us toward the 
water-side, into a region full of the flavor of the sea. This 
street takes its name from the new charter granted by 
King William III. ; and only a little way down, at the 
corner of Salem Street, is the residence of Sir William 
Phips, who was the first governor under this charter. So 
the name, like Union, really means something. 

A word about this governor and his really fine brick 
mansion, which stands in the midst of a garden running 
two hundred feet back up the hill, and for more than half 
that distance on Salem Street, with outhouses for the 
servants and stables for the horses. 

He was a poor boy who, by energy and perseverance, 
won his way to the proud position of governor in the face 
of many obstacles. The king knighted him for recovering 
the treasure of a galleon of which £16,000 fell to his 
share. So that he found himself all at once both famous 
and rich. 

This poor boy had dreamed that he would become rich 
enough to build him a house on the Green Lane, as this 

1 The stone of Captain Daniel Malcom bears the mark of bidlets, 
fired i^erhaiDs in mere wantonness by the soldiers. 

10 



146 AROUND THE HUB. 

part of Salem Street was once called. We have seen that 
he lived to realize his dream. 

The governor's Christian name was William, the same 
as the king's, and his wife's was Mary, the same as the 
Queen's. Of course all the public acts of the governor 
were issued in the name of William and Mary. It is said 
that once, wdien the governor was absent from home, his 
wife was entreated to use her influence with her husband 
in behalf of a poor woman who was lymg in jail on a 
charge of witchcraft. The good lady was so affected by 
the tale that she took a piece of paper and made out an 
order on the spot for the poor woman's release. And 
what did she do but sign it "William and Mary" ! This 
was high treason, to sign the names of their majesties, the 
king and queen ; but it passed for a joke, which the old 
people loved to tell with infinite relish at the expense of 
William and Mary Phips. 

Let us turn into this narrow lane — Henchman's Lane 

which will take us directly to the shore, and among the 

shipyards. 

After Governor Phips's time his house was owTied by a* 
Captain Gruchy, — the same man who gave the chande- 
liers to Christ Church. He was a native of the island 
of Jersey and also owned all the land running from his 
house to the water-side. People lift their eyebrows a 
little when they hear his name mentioned. Perhaps they 
mean that this Captain Gruchy w^as a bit of a free-trader. 



THE OLD NORTH END. 147 

Perhaps it is only the gossip of the time that gives him 
this character. 

But when England and France were at war, in '45, 
Gruchy's vessels, armed to the teeth, pounced upon any 
stray "Mounseer" they found skulking along the Spanish 
Main. The prize vessels w^ere sent to Boston and sold, or 
if worthless sunk at sea. Captain Gruchy sunk three to 
make himself a wharf at the North End. But the rich 
s'ilks, the spices and wines, the silver piastres and golden 
doubloons, were disposed of in a more mysterious way. 
The privateering merchant built an underground arch of 
brick, leading all the way from his house down to the 
beach ; and on the first dark night after a vessel dropped 
anchor, his boats, loaded with valuable booty, pulled with 
muffled oars to the shore, where the goods were taken by 
the sailors up to the captain's house through the arch, 
lighted by flaring torches. The mouth of the arch, which 
was large enough for boats to enter, was concealed by a 
wharf running out into the river. And so the king was 
cheated of his share. ^ 

^ This arch was long a puzzle to the few who knew of its exist- 
ence. Their idea was that it was the retreat of pirates, in which 
they could lie concealed or hide their goods. But while writing 
Landmarks of Boston I found an account of it in a manuscript which 
may be read on pages 199, 200 of that book. A subterranean arch, 
such as was often constructed in the old times for concealing contra- 
band goods, may be still seen in the cellar of Mr. Nolan's house, on 
Charter Street, near the cemetery. This may be identical with the 
arch of Captain Gruchy. 



148 AEOUND THE HUB. 

Continuing our ramble by the shore we are in the region 
exclusively devoted to shipwrights, boatbuilders, mast- 
makers, and the smell of pitch and oakum. This is also 
Jack's favorite haunt, as we know by frequent tippling- 
houses, out of which he comes with rolling gait and a very 
red face. Many of these jolly tars are man-of-war's 
men, who have come on shore for a lark. The women are 
generally coarse, ill-featured, and bold. The children, of 
whom there are enough and to spare, look dirty and 
squalid. This region is the Wapping of Boston. Notice 
the narrow lanes, the crooked alleys, the crazy rookeries 
topped by clothes-lmes and huge chimneys. Hark to 
the calker's mallets, the " Yo heave ho ! " " Cheerily, 
lads ! " of the crews getting up their anchors, the boat- 
swain's whistle and stroke of the bell on board the men-of- 
war, calling away a boat's crew or tolling the hour ! See the 
spars, tall and tapering, around which long pennants cling 
like painted serpents ! Yes, this is the Old North End. 

But this activity is of war, not peace. 

We are now come through Lynn Street, which here 
skirts the water as far as the North Battery. ^ This 
North Battery was built to protect the town from foreign 
foes, but General Gage has now seized and dismantled it. 
This was the way it was done. 

Two war-ships were anchored near by in the stream, 
with springs on their cables, all ready for an engagement, 

^ Shown in Revere's Picture of Boston on ji. 79. 



THE OLD NORTH END. 149 

while a party of soldiers went to work spiking the guns ; 
for the general feared that the " rascally Bostonians " 
might carry these great guns off, as they had previously 
done the " little barkers " from the gun-house. All this 
was very secretly effected under cover of the night. 

But the affair was not to end thus. After the soldiers 
had finished spiking the cannon, two naval officers took it 
into their heads to go and see if the work was properly 
done. The woman who had charge of the keys unlocked 
the gate and let them in ; but no sooner were they faii'ly 
inside, than she turned the key, locking them up. The 
walls were too high for them to climb, and the tide was 
too low for them to drop from the port-holes. So there 
they remained, shouting to be taken off', while the 
crowd, running up at the cries, treated the imprisoned 
Britons to cutting remarks and ironical laughter still more 
cutting. 

We will now turn away from the water, its sights and 
sounds, and taking this narrow lane, opening a long crack 
among the maze of wooden houses, reach a spot of historic 
ground in which we can profitably spend a quarter of an 
hour. 

We have at last come to North Square, which is an 
open space, in form like a triangle, and so narrow at its 
entrance, where the point is, that only a single vehicle 
can pass at a time. At the head of this space, and facing 
it, stands the old Second Church of Boston, — the church 



150 



AKOUNl) THE HUB. 



of the Mathers. It is a wooden building, with low, 
square tower ; yet humble as it looks, no house of worship 
in all the colonies can rival its history. The words spoken 




THE OLD HOUSE IN SHIP (nORTH) STREET. 



from its pulpit passed from lip to lip as the sacred oracles 
of the olden time. In those days the voice of the preacher 
was as the voice of God. 

Some of the houses here are already hallowed by age. 
Moss covers the roofs. The great chimney-stacks show 
wide cracks made by earthcpiakes, sent, as the people be- 
lieved, to destroy them in their sin. Yet there are others 



THE OLD NORTH END. 



151 



which seem looking scornfully down, in their pride, upon 
their humble neighbors. 

This one at the corner of the alley is the late residence of 
Sii- Charles Frankland, knight, whose adventures read hke 




fraxklaxd's house. 

a tale of romance. ^ It was built by the rich merchant, 
William Clark, who is buried on Copp's Hill, and from 
whom this vacant space was called Clark's Square. 

But next to the baronet's, in Garden Court, is another 
fine house, — the one to which we promised to bring you, 

1 He w.is_ crushed by the terribk^ earthquake at Lisbon, and 
rescued by his lady-love, Agnes, whom the poet Holmes has immor- 
talized. 



152 



AEOUND THE HUB. 



not long ago. In this stately mansion, with its pilasters, 
and its balconied entrance, resided the man whom the 
Bostoniaus hate so bitterly that his very name is greeted 
with hisses when spoken hi a public assemblage. It is 
the house of Thomas Hutchinson, the man who has had 
so much to do in l)ringing about the crisis through which 
we are now passhig. 




THE HUTCHINSON MANSION. 

A Boston boy, yet false to the land of his birth ! Yes, 
it must so go down in history. Of the old Puritan stock, 
of the lineage of those who suffered for greater liberty of 
thought and speech in the old days, Thomas Hutchinson 
placed hhnself on the side of oppression when his own 
countrymen were the oppressed. There he must remain. 
He was able and learned, but he was also grasping and 



THE OLD NORTH END. 153 

ambitious. He was a man of exemplary private character, 
but a scheming and unscrupulous politician. He possessed 
an amiable disposition. As a citizen he was respected, 
while as a public man he was detested. We do not think 
he was generous, for the people nicknamed him " Stingy 
Tommy," and the people never make a mistake in their 
estimate of a man. 

Durmg the Stamp Act troubles a mob attacked and 
gutted this house. In its blmd fury it destroyed not only 
rich furniture and costly ornaments, but scattered his val- 
uable library in the streets and his manuscripts to the 
four winds. The lieutenant-governor and his family fled 
in great fear, and hid themselves in the neighborhood 
until the rioters had dispersed. They then crept back to 
their plundered and desolate abode. This was certainly a 
cruel and a wanton act. All good people regretted it. 
But the mol) is a wild animal goaded to madness. 

The king having need of a military man. General Gage 
received his command to be governor, and Hutchinson, dis- 
appointed, perhaps, at not securing the vacant position, has 
sailed for England, never to return. There we will leave 
him. 

Farther down the square is the" house of that bold 
Liberty Boy, Paul Eevere. ^ A little farther on we come 

1 This house, a wooden one, with the upper story overhanging, is 
.still standing. The next, now demolished, once belonged to the 
family of Commodore Downes. 



154 AROUND THE HUB. 

to the lodgings of a soldier wliose name is already written 
in letters of blood. Major Pitcairn lives here. 

No corner of old Boston has more distinct traits than 
this, in which we now are. It is almost a community by 
itself. It has its own meeting-house, its costly mansions, 
its humble dwellings. It has its rich and poor, its shops, 
and even its own tavern. It is a centre from wdiich a 
local influence spreads to a great distance. It is also full 
of its own traditions. 

The family names are themselves curious. Here are 
Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall ; Frost, Snow, and Hale ; 
Leg, Hart, and Head ; Milk, Water, and Beer. 

The wealthy and the titled are a law unto themselves, 
and their ways and privileges are respected. But when 
a citizen of humble calling and not over-much wit gives 
himself airs, the case is different. A tailor here took it 
into his head to erase the word " tailor " from his sign, 
putting that of "merchant" in its place. The next day 
the following lampoon was found nailed to his door-post: — 

" See Merchant Adaras, reverend beau, 
With his high-heel shoes and Rocalow, 
With cocked-up hat and periwig, 
No man on earth struts forth so big. 
He 's left his goose to roast still more, 
And placed the merchant on his door." 

When superstition was rife, nothing was too marvellous 
for belief. It was enough to whisper that such or such 



THE OLD NOKTH END. 155 

a person was a witch to insure his or her being regarded 
with fear and aversion. Old Mrs. Gary, who lived here, 
was a reputed witch. Eosemary being then considered a 
cure for the asthma was m demand for invalids suffering 
from this disease. At one time no rosemary could be had 
in the town for love or money. Suddenly it became 
noised about that Mother Gary had a great store of the 
herb. It was said and believed that she had made a trip 
to Bermuda and back in an egg-shell in a smgle night, 
to obtam the medicinal plant. 

This cruel suspicion followed her to the grave, and be- 
yond the grave. When she died the vault in which she 
was buried was permitted to lie open for many years, as 
the sepulchre of one not entitled to Ghristian burial. 

Another old woman, Mother Hale, had nine cats, — the 
sorcerer's cabalistic number, — which she was in the habit 
of consulting to give information where stolen goods were 
secreted. No doubt she had many clients. 

We have now finished our circuit of the old town. 
Without more delay, we must enter upon those scenes 
of war and bloodshed which are to make or mar the 
destinies of a proud and spirited people. God defend the 
right ! 




XII. 



TO ARMS ! TO ARMS ! i 

^■\ 7HILE in England they were saying of the provincials 

such cutting things as " It was romantic to think 

they would fight," and " There was more military prowess 

1 The upright sword in the centre is Warren's ; the one to the 
left, Governor Brooks's ; to the right is one used in the battle. That 
with the curved blade, and the motto " God and our Rights," is Put- 



TO AKMs! TO arms! 157 

in a militia drummer," these same despised yeomanry were 
chasing about two thousand of the king's troops from Con- 
cord to Lexington, and from Lexington to Charlestown. 

The army officers tried to laugh it off, and spoke lightly 
of it as " our little fracas " and " the lark with the rebels." 
But they felt the disgrace all the same, and burned to re- 
trieve the shame to their arms. What ! British grenadiers 
running away before countrymen ! The thought was 
maddening. But thus it was. Besides, there was the 
eternal record of blood. That was no laughing matter. 

On their side, the Americans, pouring from every town 
and village and hamlet in New England, filled the high- 
ways with the tramp of armed men. " To arms ! To 
arms ! " was the cry. Everywhere drums beating, columns 
forming in warlike array. On, on they pressed, by scores, 
by fifties, and by thousands. All these streams flowed 
steadily to one point. That point is Cambridge. That 
collection of armed men, the army of independence. 

Thus out of the blood that had crimsoned the plains of 
Lexington and Concord sprung, vigorous and vengeful, an 
armed host. Thus in an instant was scattered to the 
winds the silly prediction that a single British regiment 
could march, unopposed, from one end of the colonies to 
the other. And thus Americans, smarting under a Ions: 
series of mjuries, rushed to arms with a fierce exultation, 
and a firm belief in the triumph of a righteous cause. 

Some had muskets, some fowling-pieces, some a sword 



158 AROUND THE HUB. 

only, but all had one mind. At last they were going to 
fight for their rights. The story had spread over all New 
England like wildfire. Every heart leaped at the tidings, 
every face shone with stern determination, every eye 
beamed with martial fire. They rushed on as if afraid 
they might arrive too late to get one shot at the slayers 
of their brethren. The Yankee blood is up at last. New 
England is in a blaze. 

And now, when the morning gun is fired from the 
British lines in Boston, it is answered by a roar of defiance 
from Camljridge. The west wind Ijrings across the broad 
bay the strange sound of drums beating the reveille in the 
Yankee camps. Battalions are taking post, and earth- 
works rising on Roxbury side. Bayonet for bayonet. 
Before General Gage realizes it, he and his ten thousand 
redcoats are shut up in Boston like rats in a trap. The 
reljcls have turned the tables on him. 

To destroy a few stores at Concord General Gage has 
brought on war. Why does he not march out at the head 
of his army, and disperse these rebels whose camp-fires 
blaze all around him ? 

The British generals Howe, Burgoyne, and Clinton, with 
reinforcements, have arrived. In order to pass away the 
time agreeably, the generals have brought their fishing- 
rods. Perhaps they may find more exciting sport waiting 
for them. At any rate the rebels will not let them go a 
fishing. 



TO ARMS ! TO ARMS ! 159 

General Gage has made the townspeople give up their 
arms because he is afraid that if the rebels from the out- 
side attack him, those inside the town will help them. 
He has promised to let all who will leave the town, but 
in a little time he has broken this promise. 

However, many have gone, — many who have not a 
penny in the world to bless themselves with. It is enough 
to melt a heart of stone to see them straggling along the 
road over the Neck, with want before and starvation 
behind them. Even the king's officers are moved to pity 
as mothers, with their babes in their arms, or holding 
their little ones by the hand, and shedding tears, are thus 
driven from their once happy homes by the iron hand 
of war. 

• But sympathizing friends and a warm welcome await 
them. As fast as they come out they receive help to go 
to their friends in the country, and they are given this 
paper, which is a passport to the benevolent every- 
where : — 

" Boston, May 7, 1775. 
" The Bearer Mrs. ]\Iary Rose and her Family removing out of 
the town of Boston are recommended to the Charity and Assistance 
of our Benevolent Sympathizing Brethren in the several towns in 
this Province. 

" By Order of the Committee of Donations. 
"Five in family. Alex. Hodgdon, Clerk 

" To the Selectmen and Committee of Correspondence in the several Towns in 
the Province of Massachusetts Bav." 



160 AROUND THE HUB. 

Further to protect himself against the inhabitants, 
General Gage has built a small work on Beacon Hill, com- 
manding the town. 

He has all along had an eye to the heights of Dorchester 
and Charlestown, where he fears the rebels will erect 
batteries that can throw shot into the town. So far he 
has only pushed forward a battery of heavy guns on the 
Neck, opposite to Dorchester Heights, and the one we 
visited on Copp's Hill, opposite Charlestown. The frigate 
in the channel, between, cannot elevate her guns suffi- 
ciently to sweep these heights. So far, then, in spite of 
the knowledge of every drummer-boy in the army that 
whoever holds these hills is master of Boston, this is all 
that the British commander-in-chief has done. Perhaps 
he thinks the ships will keep the rebels at a distance. 
Perhaps, as he is so slow, the rebels will help him to act. 

The Americans are not idle. By no means. They are 
improving the time in making raids on the harbor islands, 
burning the hay, carrying off the sheep, and doing what- 
ever else may make the situation of the enemy in Boston 
more and more uncomfortable. So daring are the provin- 
cials become under the lead of Putnam and Warren that a 
British officer writes to his friend, "With you, who are so 
jealous of the honor of the British flag, I shall risk my 
credit if I tell you what insults have been offered to it 
with impunity; but indeed they are too many to relate." 

Another says impatiently and bitterly, " The bravery 



TO ARMS ! TO ARMS ! 161 

and daring are all on one side." " And to complete all," 
writes a third, " the admiral has had a boxing-match in 
the streets, has got his eyes blackened, and his sword 
broken by a gentleman of the town whom he had used 
very ill and struck repeatedly before he returned his 
blows." 

Never were men more eager for a fight than those now 
bearing the arms of King George, cooped up in Boston 
town. 

Well, there is going to be one, for the general has at 
last determined to seize and fortify Dorchester Heights. 
He is right. They are the key of Boston. Howe and 
Clinton are to land with troops, march up the hills, and 
erect the king's standai^. They settle it that in the night 
of the IStli of June this is to be done. That is easily 
said. 

But the secret has flown to the American camp. All of 
General Gage's secrets do seem to have winss. Strono' 
reinforcements are poured into Eoxbury. Detachments 
of militia are hurried in. It really looks as if the first 
important battle was to be on this side. 

" We must have more elbow-room," said General Bur- 
goyne significantly. 

" Is it not about time we were doins; somethimj our- 
selves ? " murmured the impatient young Americans at 
Cambridge. 

So that on both sides there was the same eagerness to 

11 



162 AROUND THE HUB. 

be up and doing. This time it is the Americans who 
strike the first. 

In the American Committee of Safety some one proposes 
to take possession of Bunker Hill and to fortify it ; and 
the proposal, after due deliberation, is unanimously agreed 
to. The next step is to refer it to the general of the army 
and his council for execution. General Ward immediately 
calls his general officers together. In that group of men 
are Putnam and Thomas, Warren and Pomeroy, Spencer 
and Greene, Whitcomb and Heath, and perhaps the 
veteran Stark, who, although only a colonel, commands- 
the New Hampshire troops. 

These men sit around a table in the old Hastings House, 
near the College Green. They are to settle the plan and 
to fix the details. They have plenty of men, but little 
powder at command. It is first agreed that a thousand 
men shall be sent to throw up the intrenchments. Then 
the question comes up. How many cartridges shall be- 
served out to each man ? 

For powder, we repeat, is so scarce that it is a ques- 
tion whether there is enough for battle. 

" Sixty," said some of the younger men who had learned 
war from books, that being the number usually given to 
soldiers going into action. 

"Five," said one veteran officer. "Let our men take 
aim as I do when I am hunting deer, and five rounds will 
be enough. Ten will certainly be more than enough." 



TO ARMS ! TO ARMS ! 163 

These grizzled Indian hunters did not consider that 
shooting men and shooting deer were not quite the same 
thing to inexperienced soldiers. It was decided that 
fifteen rounds were enough. 

It was also decided that the thousand men should be in 
part taken from Massachusetts, and in part from Connect- 
icut regiments. Of course the honor of engaging in this 
battle belonged equally to all the officers and men of the 
army, whether they came from New Hampshire, Ehode 
Island, Connecticut, or the old Bay Colony. That is mili- 
tary law and usage too. Massachusetts called them to 
her aid. They were ready to lay down their lives in her 
cause ; they submitted to be commanded by her officers 
for the good of this cause when it was necessary ; but they 
would never have stirred from their camps had the right 
of their own officers equally to command been (juestioned. 
That would have been a downright insult, of which these 
Massachusetts men were incapable, to say, " When we 
order you must obey, but when you order we will do as 
we like." No; the army, such as it was, was one by the 
general consent of all the officers and soldiers in it, high 
or low, who understood quite well that without this sul)- 
ordination they were only an armed mob. 

Thus this army of Cambridge and of Bunker Hill was the 
army of the New England Colonies, and not of Massachu- 
setts alone ; and wherever these soldiers served together, 
the officer highest in rank would be entitled to command. 



164 AROUND THE HUB. 

The two men in this army most experienced in war are 
General Putnam of the Connecticut, and Colonel Stark of 
the New Hampshire, forces. Their fame and their pres- 
ence are a tower of strength. The man in whom the army 
most relies, after these two, is General Warren, who is 
called general because he has just been elected one ; but 
he has not yet received his commission of general. There 
are many other officers who have seen service, among 
them the brave Pomeroy, Frye, Prescott, and Nixon. 

The thousand Massachusetts and Connecticut men, led 
on by Colonel Prescott, marched from Cambridge Common 
at nine in the evening of the 16th for Bunker Hill. 
Their mtrenching tools were in carts. They had about 
three miles to go. When they came to the Neck General 
Putnam joined them, and put himself at their head. 

This Neck is a strip of low and level land, washed on 
one side by the Charles and on. the other by the Mystic. 
The Americans marched across unperceived. 

Without noise, instead of takmg the road through the 
town, they keep straight on up the slope of Bunker Hill. 
In a few mmutes they reach the top and halt. This is 
the spot they are ordered to fortify. 

But here a different decision is adopted. They take 
their arms again and continue on to Breed's Hill, at the 
farther end of the peninsula. And here, about midnight, 
they go to work like beavers, turnmg up the sod in the 
form of a square. All is quiet across the river, while 



166 AROUND THE HUB. 

these men toil as if their lives depended on their efforts. 
General Gage is waiting for the eighteenth day of the 
month, and the seventeenth has not yet dawned. 

The town continues buried in peaceful slumV)er, the 
hill-top continues the scene of unceasing activity until 
dawn. Then the scene changes. 

Four in the morning. Daylight steals up the heavens. 
Bang ! goes a gun from the vessel in the ferry-way. It is 
a shotted gun. Flash succeeds Hash. Boom! boom! 
answer the war-ships and floating batteries in the stream. 
Louder and louder still swells the angry roar as the battery 
on Copp's Hill, joining in, sends its shot bounding over 
the crest of Breed's Hill among the workmen, cutting 
long furrows in the grass, burying themselves in the 
earth, sending tall jets of dust in the air, as they plunge 
into the earthen walls. Each shot seems angrily seeking a 
life. The young soldiers, on whom this iron hail is so 
pitilessly falling, grow pale and nervous. They slacken 
their efforts. It is a fearful ordeal for them. But Pres- 
cott mounts the walls, and walks slowly around the 
parapet, coolly giving his orders. This contempt of danger 
gives new courage. Cheer upon cheer rings out. Again 
the men ply the spade with redoubled energy, and 
momentarily the walls rise higher and higher. 

At four in the morning this tremendous fire began. At 
this early hour the crash of artillery, breaking the stillness, 
and shaking the solid earth, turned the town of Boston 



TO ARMS ! TO AKxMS ! 167 

from its usual quiet into the wildest commotion. The 
people rush into the streets, the soldiers to arms. Hark 
to the drums ! There go the trumpets ! Consternation is 
in every face, hurry and confusion is on every side, 
while the artillery thunders unceasingly. Mounted offi- 
cers dash through the streets ; the barracks and camps 
are alive with men hurrying on their equipments. There 
is not much exultation here, but the bewilderment of sur- 
prise. The officers go upon the housetops, and, looking 
across the river, see the American fortress loominj^ black 
and defiant and silent. What ! will th(jse poltroons of 
Yankees stand that terrific cannonade ? Will they not 
scamper away in terror ? No, they work on. Not a shot 
answers the hurricane of iron hurled at them. They are 
getting used to it. 

" It is going to be a hot day," these Britons say under 
their breath. They give one longing look out over the 
blue waters of the bay to where the sea lies so tranquil. 
Ah ! England is over there, liome is there. They go to 
their chambers, and hurriedly write a few lines, — their 
last will and testament. Such is a soldier's life. 

General Gage calls his high officers around him in the 
Province House. They have all seen the Yankee works. 
All understand what they mean. It is a challenge. 
Either come out and fight or submit to be driven from 
Boston, are its terms. 

Every general agrees that the Americans must be driven 



168 AROUND THE HUB. 

from those heights, cost what it may. So the order is 
given to get twenty-five hundred of the best troops under 
arms. That will surely be more than enough. General 
Howe is ordered to lead them, with General Pigot as sec- 
ond in command. So certain are they that these raw 
Americans will run away when they see the compact 
columns of veterans bearing down upon them that the 
advice of one sagacious officer is neglected or overruled. 

His advice is to land these troops at Charlestown Neck. 
One look convinces us that this plan would be fatal to the 
Americans. With twenty-five hundred men, supported by 
artillery, between them and retreat — behmd the works they 
have erected — it is doubtful if a smgle man could escape. 
But this counsel is not followed. It is feared that this plan 
may expose General Gage's troops to an attack in front 
and rear at once, — in front from the provincials on 
Breed's Hill, in the rear from those at Cambridge. And thus 
timidity or infatuation, or both, rules the council of war. 

His orders given and his troops embarked. General 
Gage ascends the steeple of the Old North, which com- 
mands the battle-field. Some one asks him if the rebels 
will stand. "Yes," he replies, "if one John Stark is 
there ; for he is a brave fellow." 




BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. 



XITI. 



THE SWORD OF BUNKER HILL. 



"C^ROM the heights of Breed's Hill every movement in 
the streets of Boston is plainly seen, — the artillery- 
men lashing their horses into a gallop, the solid bodies of 
infantry marching to the wharves. Soon a fleet of boats 
pushes out into the harbor, forming a long and glittering 
line protected by the guns of the shipping. Sweeping 



170 AROUND THE HUB. 

majestically on, this line is directed towards the extreme 
seaward point of Charlestown, JMorton's Point. 

Two in the afternoon, — a sultry day. The boats 
ground on the beach. The men, jumping on shore, quickly 
take their ranks. Then each regiment moves up the little 
hill ^ in front to its allotted place, until the battalions 
stand in three lines facmg the rebel works. Let us look 
behind those works. 

The redoubt, crowning the summit of Breed's Hill, is 
manned by a hundred and fifty or a hundred and sixty of 
the men who have built it. In the midst, calm as a sum- 
mer's morn, stands Prescott. A bank of fresh earth, 
joining the redoubt, continues its face down the slope of 
the hill, towards the Mystic, about one hundred yards. 
This is well manned, but there is still a wide space open 
between it and the river, — wide enough for General Howe 
to march his whole army in columns of battalions 
straight through. The Americans have not half fortified 
their front. ^ 

On the right of the redoubt fences and trees give pro- 
tection to more men, then comes the steep hillside, at the 
foot of wdiich is the town ; and in the houses here a num- 
ber of American marksmen have taken post. In a word, 

^ This hill was partly within the Navy Yard. See p. 165. 

2 Until the Connecticut and New Hampshire forces closed up this 
line absolutely nothing prevented the British from flanking the works 
on Breed's Hill. Bunker Hill was the post the Americans were 
ordered to take. It was more easily defended. 



THE SWORD OF BUNKEE HILL. 171 

the redoubt and its defences cover only a part of the line 
along which, it is plain, the British mean to advance. 
Prescott will hold Breed's Hill if the enemy do not flank, 
or get behind him, but he cannot stop them. 

Yet they must be stopped. This long gap must be 
filled. 

There is a gray-headed soldier on the field who has the 
fire and energy of fifty men. He has experience. He is 
beloved and trusted as no other man there is. He sees 
that the battle will go against them if this fatal gap is not 
closed up. He has no aids, no orderlies, no guards, but if 
a thing is to be done he rides to the spot and gives his 
orders. And his orders are obeyed. That man is " Old 
Put." He is like an old war-horse who scents battle from 
afar, every sense quickened by the crisis. Now he is at 
this spot, now that. His foaming charger's side is bloody 
with spurring, his own face bathed in sweat; but these 
appearances are not caused by frenzy or excitement. Far 
from it. They are decision followed by action. The men 
who have never heard a shot fired in anger, who see two 
thousand of the flower of English soldiery ready at a word 
to rush upon them, and are shaken by the sight, look 
around them for a leader. And in this stern-visaged old 
man they behold him. But his bravery is so reckless that 
they expect to see him shot from his horse every moment. 

Two hundred men with cannon are seen marching from 
the redoubt to the rear. Putnam spurs u]) to them. 



172 AROUND THE HUB. 

" Draw up your men here," he commands, waving his 
sword towards a stone wall. The men catch fire, and with 
new spirit take the designated position. They pull up 
the fences and gather up armfuls of hay lying ready- 
mowed upon the field. With these rails and this grass 
they heap up a breastwork. It will not stop a bullet, but 
it gives them confidence. It is not a real, but a sham 
defence. 

" Protect their legs, and your raw soldiers won't mind 
their heads," is one of " Old Put's " maxims. 

Now the head of a column is seen mounting the slope 
of Bunker Hill. It is Stark's New Hampshire battalion, 
with their colonel intrepidly leading them through their 
first baptism of fire. They halt on the brow. Putnam 
rides up. 

" Push on. Colonel Stark ! " he says. " The enemy have 
landed and formed." 

Stark's drums beat, and the gallant fellows marching 
steadily on to the hay breastwork, in their turn carry it 
along the front of the enemy quite to the river. The gap 
is closed up. It is now a hedge of steel behind which 
a thousand brave hearts beat high with the hope of vic- 
tory. These men then sit down on the grass, and, having 
taken off their coats, proceed to pare the bullets served out 
to them with their jackknives, for hardly two muskets are 
of the same calibre. 

Other troops come on the field, and join those at the hay 



THE SWORD OF BUXKER HILL. 173 

breastwork. It is some distance behind the redoubt, but 
that is no matter. It is only straw, but the British 
infantry cannot pass here except over the bodies of its 
brave defenders. Stark is here with the keen-eyed 
hunters of the White Hills. Eeed is here with his New 
Hampshire boys. The lion-hearted Knowlton is here. 
And Putnam, who has brought up two more guns, and 
pointed them with his own hand, is here. 

Stark is as cool as ice and as hard as iron. Even the 
smell of powder does not excite him. Walking delib- 
erately out in front of his regiment, he plants a mark in 
the ground. Then he as deliberately returns. 

" Wlien the enemy are there," he says, jerking his sword 
toward the spot, "give it to them; but not before." 

Putnam rides along the line, speaking to and en- 
couraging the men. He tells them to lie down out of 
reach of the enemy's balls until they are within good gun- 
shot, but is heedless of his own person. 

A group of officers is seen in consultation. Putnam 
dismounts, loads one of the cannon with grape, points, and 
discharges it with fatal effect. He then resumes his tour 
of the lines ; for right before him the enemy is massing 
in columns of attack with the precision of a parade. The 
decisive moment is at hand. 

Who shall describe the excitement of this moment? 
Crouched or kneeling behind their unfinished ramparts, 
the farmers of New England confront the disciplined vet- 



174 



AROUND THE HUB. 




erans of Old England. At their head stand doctors, or 
lawyers, or other farmers like themselves, — soldiers in 
name, — every man fighting with a hal- 
ter around his neck. For the fiftieth 
time they take aim, try the locks, or 
glance uneasily over their shoulders. 
Some put bullets between their teeth. 
Some offer up a silent prayer to 
God. 

The veteran officers alone are cool. 
" Wait for the word ; don't fire till 
you can see the white of their eyes," is 
the order Putnam gives. 

The space between this unconquer- 
able phalanx of New Hampshire and Connecticut soldiers is 
filled, or partly filled, by fragments of incomplete bat- 
talions of IMassachusetts that have hurried to the field. 
And here the noble Warren, scorning the shelter of the 
redoubt, takes his stand, armed, like the common soldier, 
only with a musket. But he has already used that mus- 
ket at Lexington and at Chelsea. Warren's presence and 
his example are worth a host. 

For before the reinforcements came on, our poor fellows, 
daunted by the cannonade, and worn out with toil, believed 
they were abandoned to their fate. But now the bravest 
and truest stand along that embattled line from left to 
right, — Stark, Putnam, Pomeroy, Warren, Prescott. Not 



PROVINCIAL 
CARTRIDGE-BOX. 



THE SWORD OF BUNKER HILL. 175 

Massachusetts alone, but Connecticut, New Hampshire, 
and Massachusetts, will fight this battle shoulder to shoul- 
der, and to the death. Not to one colony alone will history 
record the deeds of this day, but to united New England, 
made one by a common cause. Eternal infamy reward 
the man who would wrest one jot or tittle of the fame 
justly due to all these heroes in order to bestow it on some 
favorite ! 

Warren and Putnam meet on the battle-field. " I am 
sorry to see you here. General Warren. Wdl you give me 
your orders ? " asks the old hero. 

" No," replies the chivalric young man. " But tell me 
where I can do the most good." 

Pointing to the redoubt, Putnam says, " You will be 
covered there." He cannot see the hope and pride of 
the army fall a sacrifice to his burning zeal to distinguish 
himself. 

" Don't think I came to seek a place of safety," replies 
the young soldier, " but tell me where the onset will be 
most furious." 

Putnam still points to the redoubt, and thither Warren 
bends his steps. The soldiers welcome him with huzzas. 
Prescott hastens to meet him. " Will you take my com- 
mand. General ? " he asks. 

" No," Warren replies, " the command is yours." 

But he will not stay behind these walls. He sees the 
line between the breastwork and the hay-fence is most 



176 AROUND THE HUB. 

exposed, and here he takes his stand. He has at last found 
what he is seeking, — the post of honor and of danger. 
Nohle refusal ! heroic resolve • Let posterity applaud the 
one and history record the other. 

The lines are formed. Thanks to Putnam, there is no 
weak spot now. At the redoubt the word is passed, 
" Don't waste a kernel of powder. Aim at the waistband ; 
pick out the handsome coats." And so, from left to right, 
the provincials calmly await the attack. 

General Howe pushes his artillery to the front. The 
cannoneers are at their pieces, with lighted matches. He 
has his proud battalions massed and ready to launch upon 
the despised peasants. All is ready. Still he hesitates. 
The rebel works look strong. They are full of men. He 
sends for reinforcements. General Gage promptly em- 
barks two more battalions, which land nearer the town, 
under a galling fire from the Americans, posted in the 
houses. Seeing this. General Howe despatches a messenger 
to General Burgoyne, who is on Copp's Hill, with a request 
to throw some shells among these houses. The guns 
quickly open upon the town, and in a few minutes it is set 
on fire, its defenders retreating before the flames. The 
mhabitants are flymg in terror from theu' homes. 

Earl Percy is now furiously cannonading Eoxbury from 
the Neck, Burgoyne Charlestown from Copp's Hill. All 
the church-steeples, all the housetops, of Boston are black 
with anxious spectators. Crowds throng the heights of 



THE SWORD OF BUNKER HILL. 177 

Maiden and Chelsea. The air, thick with smoke, and 
trembling with explosions, hangs a dusky ^Dall over land 
and sea. The battle begins. 

Eight and left the charging columns advance steadily 
toward the intrenchments, the artillery tiring round after 
round at short range. Now the British are stopped by 
fences which throw them into disorder, increased by a 
brisk cannonade from the rail-fence. Putnam points these 
pieces, which make long lanes in the enemy's ranks. But 
the disciplined soldiers of the emphe, closing up these gaps, 
march steadily onward. 

General Howe leads the right attack in person. The 
picked soldiers of the whole army, grenadiers and light- 
infantry, move forward, a solid and imposing torrent of 
bayonets, at his command. Now they are within musket- 
range. Now the front ranks pour a rattling volley into 
the intrenchments. The British artillery ceases firmg. 
Brown Bess and the bayonet must now decide the day. 

As yet an ominous silence reigns behind that long mound 
of stones and hay, fringed with steel. Nearer, and nearer 
still, come the exulting and confident foe. "Wliat ! will 
the " cowards," the " wretches," not fire one shot for the 
honor of New England — just one ? 

At last the foremost ranks touch the dead-lme. For 
one instant the combatants see each other's eyes. Then 
the intrenchment blazes like a volcano. The hill trembles 
beneath the discharges, while its defenders are swallowed 

12 



178 AEOUND THE HUB. 

up in smoke and flame rolling down upon and engulfing 
their assailants. And in this murky cloud, lighted by 
incessant flashes, death is reaping a rich harvest. 

As the smoke slowly rises, the dead lie in heaps. For 
them drum or trumpet shall no more sound the charge. 
Awful is the carnage. The whole head of the assaulting 
column is destroyed. For an instant or two it wavers, 
then recoils, then turns, and pours a tide of fugitives down 
the hill. Well done the rail-fence ! 

The officers, stung by the disgrace, vainly endeavor to 
stem this tide. But it is useless. They, too, are borne 
along with it. And as they are thrust aside by their 
panic-struck men, something wounds them still more. It 
is the cheers of the victors, mingled with shouts of, " Say, 
are the Yankees cowards now ? " 

While the combat at the rail-fence is proceeding, an 
equal force of the enemy, under General Pigot, furiously 
assails the redoubt and breastwork. It is allowed to come 
within thirty yards. Then a close and murderous fire 
begins. Few of the assaulting column reach the ditch 
alive. The . same fatal accuracy distinguishes the Ameri- 
can fire ; the same butchery is going on all along the 
whole line. Pigot cannot advance. It is a complete, an 
awful repulse. 

General Gage witnesses this catastrophe from the stee- 
ple. Not a moment must be lost. He hurries to Howe's 
assistance all the remainmg troops at his disposal. 



THE SWORD OF BUNKER HILL. 



179 



So far the American loss is trifling. The enemy fire too 
high, and their balls, cntting the limbs of the trees wliich 
cover our men, strew the ground with the litter. 

While the British general is makmg superliuman exer- 
tions to rally his men for a second assault, there is a short 
respite. 




BOSTON FROM BREED'S HILL, 1791. 

Putnam, again mounting his horse, dashes back over 
the ridge to Bunker Hill, where there are hundreds of men 
whose officers cannot or will not lead them to the front. 
He entreats, he commands them by turns. He sees an 
artillery officer taking his guns off the field, and, riding up, 
peremptorily orders him back to his post. The officer 
refuses. Then Putnam tells him if he does not obey he 
will cut him down on the spot. Sullenly the officer obeys. 
Then to the Neck, where there are crowds, perplexed by 
contradictory orders or too cowardly to face the hot fire 
through which the general has just come as if he bore a 



180 AROUND THE HUB. 

charmed life. Only a few straggling bodies reward these 
exertions of the commander by marching to the lines. 
Still is he the ruling spirit of the hour, still he leaves 
nothing untried or undone ; and as he cannot coax or drive 
the recreants to their duty, his place is with those who are 
again preparing to meet a second and still more desperate 
onset. 

For now the British general, gathermg his broken and 
dispirited battahons together, again leads them on to the 
assault, They meet with a second, and if possible more 
appalling disaster than before. This time the men throw 
theu' arms away, and, rushing to the waterside, fling them- 
selves into the boats. It is a veritable panic. The crews 
drive them out with curses and with blows, like dogs. 
Their own captains beat and prick them with their sabres. 
But at last discipline prevails ; at last they are huddled 
together in some order, and, seeing their reinforcements 
land on the beach, close under the redoubt, take courage, 
and once more re-form their decimated ranks. Although 
enemies, we cannot refuse this heroic courage our admira- 
tion. 

On their side the Americans load and fire with amazing 
rapidity and accuracy. The enemy's officers advance to 
the front only to be picked off. " There ! see that officer ! " 
is the signal for a fatal volley. General Howe finds him- 
self standing alone. All his aids have been disabled. His 
faithful servant brings him a bottle of wine, which is 



THE SWORD OF BUXKER HILL. 181 

dashed from his hand before he can drmk. At this 
moment a single disciplined battalion could have captured 
or driven the whole of them into the sea. 

All this General Gage sees. It is defeat, it is dis- 
honor. To him it is ruin. General Clinton sees it. An 
heroic impulse prompts him. He throws himself into 
a boat, crosses the river, and puts himself at the head of 
the fresh troops. A hurried consultation takes place. 
The rail-fence cannot be taken. Howe will not risk a 
third attempt. Half his fine army is already destroyed. 
It is decided to attack the redoubt on all sides simul- 
taneously with the bayonet. 

The order is given, and for the third time the attacking 
columns are hurled against the redoubt. The provincials 
have exhausted their ammunition, but think not of retreat. 
On both sides is the courage of desperation. 

The weary defenders of the redoubt, overcome by their 
previous eftbrts, have imbibed the spirit of their indomit- 
able leader. Not a man stu's. Awaiting the advance of 
the scarlet line, with grim determination they hold their 
fire until the enemy are close to the trenches. It is shock- 
ingly fatal. Again the enemy is staggered, but the Ameri- 
can fire is now no longer the terrific fusillade of the first 
and second attacks. The enemy press on. On their left 
the Marinas and the 47th, rallying from the confusion 
caused by the first volley, leap the ditch and climb the 
parapet under a sore and heavy fire. Two captains fall 



182 ABOUND THE HUB. 

in gaining it. Three captains of the 52d are killed on 
the parapet. Captain Harris of the 5th, who has dis- 
tinguished himself at Lexington, is shot down in the act 
of mounting it. For a few moments the resistance is as 
stubborn as the onset is furious, but the Americans are 
now no longer able to maintain the combat upon equal 
terms. Their powder is gone. The royal troops crowd 
the parapet, from which they fire down into the faces of 
the provincials. An officer of noble bearing haughtily 
demands the surrender of the garrison, but falls dead 
almost as soon as the words are uttered. Furious, raging, 
like a lion at bay, Prescott's voice rises above the horrible 
din. The Americans fight like madmen. They wrench 
the muskets from the hands of their assailants, and with 
them bayonet their owners. Some hurl stones, and others 
club their now useless weapons in sheer desperation. A 
horrible and sanguinary melee rages withhi the four walls 
of the redoubt, above which rise clouds of dust that blind 
the combatants. Twice does Prescott's little band clear 
the redoubt of enemies, but the exasperated Britons return 
to the charge with a determination to conquer or die. Step 
by step, they make a road with the bayonet, forcing the 
defenders backwards toward the gorge. While this un- 
heard-of resistance is going on, sharp musketry begins in 
the rear of the redoubt. The cry arises that the Ameri- 
cans are surrounded. Prescott now tells his men to save 
themselves. Crowded with dead and dying, the blood- 




THE SWORD OF BUNKER HILL. 183 

Stained fortress is at last in possession of the triumphant 
enemy. 

With the fall of the redoubt the breastwork is deserted, 
and the enemy begins to show in force in the rear of this 
part of the line. Warren's men, who 
have securely held the gap against the 
renewed efforts of the grenadiers, are 
now between two fires, and are, in 
their turn, compelled to beat a hasty relics from war- 
retreat. Wliile doing so a ball strikes ^^^'^ ^^^^'• 

down their brave leader, who meets a soldier's death. 

The redoubt and its defences are in the enemy's hands. 
They use the bayonet with cruel effect. Prescott and his 
men are in disorderly retreat. A rout is imminent. The 
day is lost. But now, as their right flank is uncovered, 
the provincials, who have firmly held the rail-fence, still 
presenting an undaunted front, fall back fighting to 
Bunker Hill, from which a few brave men advance to aid 
their comrades. The rout is thus checked, the enemy 
kept at bay, and time given for the fugitives to make 
good their retreat across the Neck, under the heavy fire 
of the enemy's floating batteries, which sweep it with 
continued discharges of grape and round shot. 

On Bunker Hill a last heroic effort is making to rally 
the Americans. The commanding voice of Putnam rises 
above the confusion beseeching the stragglers " In God's 
name to form and give them one shot more ! " But 



184 AROUND THE HUB. 

neither he, nor those other brave spirits who rally around 
him, can stem the tide. Here, too, men are falling fast. 
At last Bunker Hill is abandoned to the enemy, who 
plants his artillery on its brow, and opens upon the 
retreating Americans a plunging fire. 

With those true hearts whom he can still hold together, 
Putnam retreats no farther than the first defensible posi- 
tion, — Prospect Hill. Here he again faces the enemy. 
In this act we recognize the leader. First m the field, 
and last to leave it, " Old Put " throws Imnself boldly in 
the path of the victorious foe. 

There is no exultation in the ranks of the enemy. 
They have carried one little hill at the cost of more than 
a thousand men. A victory ! They do not inscribe 
" Bunker Hill " on their standards. A victory ! They 
are aghast at the price they have paid for the lesson that 
" Yankees will fight." They have, indeed, saved Boston 
for the moment ; they have saved their honor. And 
yet have they received such a stunning blow that " Bunker 
Hill," traced in letters of blood, shall stand on the page of 
history as a field of humiliation, not for England's arms, 
but for English arrogance and presumption. 




AMERICAN SIEGE GUN AND CARRIAGE. 



XIV. 



YANKEE DOODLE. 

^ FINE despatch General Gage will have to send 
home to his king. It will be something in these 
terms : — 

" Please your Majesty the army of subjugation has had 
a battle forced upon it, in which it has lost more than 
two to the enemy's one, with many valuable officers slain. 
Behaving with their ancient valor, your Majesty's veteran 
troops drove the raw levies of the rebels from all their 
positions at the point of the bayonet. We have won a 
glorious victory. 

" P. S. — Your Majesty's army remains cooped up in 
Boston. The rebels are burrowing, like rabbits, all around 
us. But 't was a splendid victory ! " 



186 AROUND THE HUB. 

One officer, who does not pick and choose his words in 
order to gloss over a sad disaster, writes home : — 

" You good people of Old England will find out that 
some other mode must be adopted than gaining every 
little hill at the expense of a thousand Englishmen." 

And, on the other side of the lines, our brave General 
Greene, of Ehode Island, writes to his friends : — 

" I wish we could sell them another hill at the same 
price." 

The Americans, not knowing how they have crippled 
him, believe the enemy's next move will be on Cam- 
bridge. General Putnam is therefore making superhuman 
exertions at Prospect Hill to stop him. 

The British, feeling far from secure with such a numer- 
ous and audacious foe before them, are only intent upon 
protecting themselves from attack by strongly intrenching 
on Bunker Hill. For the present, spades are trumps. 

Here we commence our tour of the American works. 
We find, first, — 

Our pickets continuing to annoy the enemy from the 
deserted houses beyond Charlestown Neck, until driven 
out by his cannon. These houses are then burned to the 
ground ; but the ruins still afford a shelter to our marks- 
men, who fire whenever they can get a shot at the British 
fatigue-parties. To stop this, two armed gondolas, with 
raised bulwarks, are brought up the Mystic Eiver, and 
fire on our men at intervals. Thus, the Americans, 



YANKEE DOODLE. 187 

though beaten on the 17th, have not ceased to hold an 
advanced post within musket-shot of the enemy. And 
from this post they will not be dislodged. 

Nature has placed some formidable obstacles in the 
way of an enemy marching on Cambridge in this direc- 
tion. A group of hills occupies all the ground between 
the Mystic Eiver and Cambridge marshes. Among these, 
lifted high above the others, is Prospect Hill. Well is it 
named, for it commands all the region surrounding. The 
high-road from Charlestown to Cambridge passes directly 
underneath it. It is about equally distant from our ad- 
vanced post at the Neck and the main army at Cam- 
bridge. Every movement of the enemy on Bunker Hill 
can be seen from its summit, as well as every demonstra- 
tion by his ships of war ; for having sole command of the 
water, his armed vessels may easily move up the Mystic 
on one side and bombard the New Hampshire troops at 
Medford, or they may work up the Charles on the other, 
and shell the camps at Cambridge. 

To go back a little. On the evening of the glorious 
19th of April, when the dispirited soldiers of the king 
retreated in disorder over Charlestown Neck by this road, 
our own victorious yeomanry pursued them nearly to 
the foot of Bunker Hill. It was just at this critical mo- 
ment, while Lord Percy's men were hurrying on around 
the foot of Prospect Hill, that seven hundred American 
militia, who had not yet fired a shot, were marching over 



188 AROUND THE HUB. 

this hill from Medford. A few minutes earlier would 
have brought them upon the British flank. But they 
were too late. 

Seeing the British safe on Bunker Hill, and it beinf^ 
now too dark to distinguish friend from foe, our men fell 
back as far as Prospect Hill, first posting sentinels at the 
Neck. After the necessary pickets were placed at various 
points on the road, the main body moved back to Cam- 
bridge. Here, at the foot of Prospect Hill, was mounted 
the first guard of the Ee volution, April 19, 1775. 

Stark's camp, on Winter Hill, and Putnam's own around 
Inman's farm,^ are each about half a mile distant from 
the new position Putnam has selected, which he has been 
fortifying since the afternoon of the 17th. Stark is also 
throwing up works to cover his own encampment. Thus 
we see that Putnam may either call Stark, or the troops 
at Inman's, to his aid, or march to the help of either, as 
necessity may demand, long before the enemy can strike 
a blow ; and he has the whole army at his back in 
case of need. 

Prospect Hill is, therefore, the key to the American 
position so long as the army remains on the defensive, as 
it now must. Keenly alive to its importance, knowing 
that moments are now precious, scorning fatigue as well 
as danger, it is our gallant Putnam who is making incred- 
ible efforts to put this hill in a thorough state of defence. 

^ Inman's house stood on what is now Inman Street, Cambridge. 



YANKEE DOODLE. 189 

Througliout Saturday night and far into Sunday, mattock 
and spade are unceasingly plied. Here Putnam's son 
finds his father among the workmen, giving his orders, 
never having taken off his clothes smce the day before 
the battle. 

-The greatest want on our side is not men, but artillery, 
with which to defend these works. All the old iron can- 
non that can be found far or near have been carefully 
collected, but many are condemned pieces, and threaten 
greater injury to their owners than to the enemy ; many 
are honeycombed with age, or have had their trunnions 
knocked off to render them useless. Yankee ingenuity 
will, however, remedy this last defect. The guns are 
ingeniously bedded in timber carriages, in the same way 
as a musket-barrel in a stock. But it takes a Ions time 
to elevate or depress these unwieldy machmes. Powder, 
too, is scarce, and must be saved for battle, and not wasted 
at long bowls. The enemy pitch shot and shell into our 
lines, but our soldiers are getting used to "ducking" when 
the sentinels cry out " A shot ! " 

As for the camps, they are a curious medley indeed. 
Some of the huts are made of boards, some of sail-cloth ; 
some partly of one and partly of the other. Others are 
built of stones and sods, bricks and brush. Others, agahi, 
are ingeniovisly contrived of wicker-work, and look like 
bee-hives. Now and then some lucky officer has a tent ; 
but none of the troops have come regularly equipped for 



190 



AKOUND THE HUB. 



the field except the Ehode Islanders, who have tents, and 
whose camp is laid out in exact military order. 

Leaving Prospect Hill, and descending into the road 
again, we find earthworks thrown up to command the 
cross-road leading to Lechmere's Point. ^ These too are 

well manned. This is 
Patterson's post. The 
Americans have an eye 
to this approach, be- 
cause the enemy landed 
at the Point and 
marched this way to 
Concord. That is why 
a force has been con- 
centrated at luman's 
with an advanced post 
here. 

We now understand 



HESSIAN FLAG. 2 

that before the battle of Bunker Hill the Connecticut 
troops under Putnam, and the New Hampshire levies 
under Stark, covered the left of the army at Cambridge, 
and would have received the enemy's first blows. 




^ These works were at, or near, what is now Union Square, 
Somerville. 

2 Two years later, in 1777, the army of General Burgoyne was 
quartered on these hills, — the British on Prospect Hill, the Hes- 
sians on Winter Hill. They were taken, bag and baggage, at Sara- 
toga. 



YANKEE DOODLE. 191 

Having now passed the outworks, we keep along the 
highway until within five eighths of a mile from Cam- 
bridge Common, when we come upon more works on each 
side of the road, where it crosses a small stream. ^ But- 
ler's Hill,^ the eminence rising now on our left, is also 
being strongly mtrenched on its brow and slopes. These 
works defend the camps at Cambridge, and will, when 
finished, close up the line from Charlestown road to 
Charles Eiver. 

Passing the sentmels here, a few minutes' walk brings 
us within sight of the college buildings. On both sides 
of us the fields and pastures are occupied by bodies of 
armed men engaged in cooking, drilling, or cleaning their 
arms. A few steps more and we enter the bustle and stir 
incident to the presence of a large force. We inquire of 
the first soldier we meet the way to headquarters, and he 
points out a gambrel-roofed house overlooking the Com- 
mon. We halt here. 

1 Near the intersection of Beacon Street. The stream, now dry, 
was a branch of Miller's Eiver. 

2 Dana Hill. 




XV. 



THE NEW ENGLAND AEMY.i 




?^^=^. 



^^ 



"DEFOPtE it became a camp 
Cambridge was, and has con- 






^ 

t'-- 




tinued from time to time to be, 
tlie seat of the insurrectionary 
government. Tlie authority of 
the royal governor and council 
^y'^i*f'^:*?e^%^B* ' is of course denied, and has 
ceased outside of Boston. The 
old House of Eepresentatives, 
OLD MILE-STONE. uo lougcr permitted to assemble, 

has given place to a Provincial Congress, whose orders are 
carried out by a select body called a Committee of Safety. 
In this way the government of the people, such as it is, 
goes on ; but they have no courts of justice, nor can they 
have the stability and order of peaceful times in such a 
crisis as the present. 

^ This is the name given to it by the supreme authority of Mas- 
sachusetts, in its official account of the Battle of Bunker Hill. 



THE NEW ENGLAND ARMY. 193 

Notwithstanding hostilities have actually begun, the 
representatives of the people, or a majority of them, still 
cling to their king like a Hindoo to his idol. For them 
the throne is invested with a certam sacredness, which 
we call divine right. They have been so long used to 
calling themselves " subjects," and to going down upon 
their knees, tliat the idea of being free men is dou1)tfully 
balanced as a boon or an evil. And even now, when the 
cannon of Bunker Hill have scarcely ceased thundering the 
knell of this delusion in their ears, they cannot Ijelieve that 
their king will not riglit them at last. And he the most 
obstinate and vindictive man in all his broad kingdom ! 
So they continue praying for King George, while shooting 
his soldiers, as it were, under protest. 

But they do not know their man. His thick German 
blood is up. His rebellious subjects tender their petitions 
with one hand, while the other holds the sword. They 
do not offer the hilt in token of submission, Ijut the point. 
In a way, they solicit his royal clemency while putting a 
pistol to his ear. So the king is now in a right royal fit 
of exasperation. He determines and on his royal word 
says accordingly these audacious colonists must be " chas- 
tised." He sputters and fumes. His ministers run to 
and fro. His arsenals and dockyards redouble their activ- 
ity. His generals tell him America is as good as con- 
quered. But this is not enough to satisfy George, "by 
the grace of God, king, etc., etc." England, and Scotland, 

13 



194 AROUND THE HUB. 

and Trelancl are not enough to grind his traitorous subjects 
to powder. Gold has no smell : he will buy soldiers 
at so much a head. He writes to his continental neigh- 
bors for help. Proud old England shakes her purse in the 
faces of these beggarly princes. Hessians and Hanover- 
ians are hired to fight Americans, with whom they have 
not e\:en the shadow of a quarrel. Truly, a most noble 
and royal alliance for England ! But the Empress Catha- 
rine — honor to her for the act ! — refuses to sell her legions 
to do this dirty work. The king wrote to her with his 
own hand, l)ut instead of replying in the same manner 
the great empress told her minister to answer this little 
king. She snubs him. She lets him know he does not 
understand his business of king. 

These reflections and this retrospect have occupied the 
moments while our eyes ran over the scenes around us ; 
and they naturally came to answer the mute inquiry of 
" What do all these formidable preparations mean ? " 
" How will it all end ? " 

By the number of horses saddled and hitched to the 
trees, or the palings, as well as by the number of people 
going in or coming out, we should be able to identify the 
army headquarters. There is a sentinel at the door, but 
among the visitors a certain republican simplicity and 
equality is apparent, very different from the formality and 
eti(piette surrounding the Province House. The post- 
rider's lank beast quietly crops the grass by the side of the 



THE NEW ENGLAND AR.MY. 



195 



general's sleek nag. And what insignia of rank officers 
may now and then have seem worn more with an eye to 
effect than fitness. It would be hard indeed, from any 
outward evidence, to tell which was the general and which 
the private soldier. 






^' 



^'\r^i^^.'- - iM^ 



^^i 




HOLDEN CHAPEL. 



Only the shadow of discipline has entered this republi- 
can encampment, for soldiers accost their officers without 
hesitation and without troubling themselves to carry 
their hands to their cocked hats. In all those things 
which instil a sentiment of pride into an army our own is, 
we must admit, sadly deficient. No wonder the British 
laugh. Our soldiers can hardly help laughing at them- 
selves. 



196 AROUND THE HUB. 

It was ill this house, however, that the hattle of the 
17th was planned. It was to this door couriers rode in 
hot haste during that bloody day. It is here tliat many 
of the young officers who thirst for renown have received 
their first commissions in the " Army of Liberty." Bene- 
dict Arnold, a young Connecticut soldier, is one of them. 
Here General Ward continues to direct tlie army as its 
commander-in-chief. Over that threshold pass Putnam, 
Thomas, Greene, Pomeroy, Stark, Heath, Spencer, Frye, 
and Whitcomb to consult, suggest, or pay simple visits of 
ceremony. 

To the right, and in plain view, extends the Common, 
which is the parade-ground of the army. To the left, 
half hid among trees, rise the quaint roofs of the col- 
lege halls, with the steeple of the meeting-house and 
the tower of the Episcopal Church beyond. Deserted 
by the professors, the tutors, and the students, the col- 
lege buildings are now used as barracks and for the 
various offices connected with the administration of the 
army. 

So the house of the college-steward, Jonathan Hastings, 
has the honor of being the headquarters, while in yonder 
academic halls young soldiers now learn the art of war 
instead of Greek and Latin. 

First in order, and fronting the road, is Holden Chapel. 
Next to this, and farther back, is Hollis. We then come 
to three buildings forming three sides of a square. Har- 



THE NEW ENGLAND ARMY, 



197 



vard, named for the founder of the college, is the first, 
Stougiiton, at the bottom of the square, is the second, and 
Massachusetts the third. The ground enclosed by these 
three structures is the college-yard, which in the old days 




HARVARD HALL. 



has witnessed many curious things, not the least being 
the burning of books written to prove witchcraft a hum- 
bug. In those days, too, for grave offences students were 
publicly whipped. 

Of these three buildings. Harvard is the newest, Stough- 
ton the oldest. The old Harvard Hall built in 1674, the 
most ancient structure, was burned a dozen years ago, and 
with it the college library and philosophical apparatus 



198 



AROUND THE HUB. 



with " two compleat skeletons." It was, however, speed- 
ily rebuilt. ^ 

We recollect that the first printing-press in North 
America was set up in the Indian College, a brick build- 
ing of two stories, erected by the Society for Propagating 




MASSACHUSETTS HALL. 

the Gospel. Here were printed the Bay Psalm Book, and 
Eliot's Indian Bible, that wonderful monument of human 
perseverance and human skill. But now we find in 
Stoughton a printing-office having the official sanction of 

1 Of the ancient IjuililinLis now standing, ^Massachusetts, Inult in 
1720, is the oldest. The old Stoughton, l)uilt in 1698, being very 
ruinous, was pulled down and rebuilt early in the present century 
on its present site. 



THE NEW ENGLAND AKMY. 199 

the Province, issuing the " New England Chronicle and 
Essex Gazette" newspaper, which is eagerly read by the 
soldiers. Patriotic songs and ballads worked oft' on this 
press, and hawked about the camps, keep alive the martial 
spirit and enliven the hours of relaxation from duty. 
Here is a verse or two of one of the most popular : — 

" Look on our Wives and Infants, they pit'ously implore 
To be preserved I'rom Blood Hounds who now invest our Shore. 
O ! let not those helpless Innocents become the lawless Prey 
Of Dogs, of Dogs, of Dogs, of Dogs who hate America. 

" Determin'd lix the bayonet and charge the sure Fusee, 
Resolv 'd like ancient Romans to set our Country Free, 
And by the noble acts perform'd forever and for aye, 
Prove that we are true Sons, true Sons of great America." 

Nothing puts so much life in the soldier as a good song, 
well sung, inciting him to deeds of heroism. He goes 
into battle singing his national hymn with a cheerfulness 
and courage nothing else will arouse. The old French 
proverb, " They sing, they will pay," might aptly be 
changed into " They sing, they will fight." If soldiers are 
ready to drop with fatigue, let some one but strike up a 
spirited song, and the heavy feet fall once more together, 
the straggling files close up, while a thousand throats 
swell the chorus. An army without its war-songs will 
always be beaten by an army which sings. 

From the college buildings, a few steps brings us to the 
meeting-house in which the first Provincial Compress as- 



200 



AROUND THE HUB. 



semLled. Here was made the organization of the minute- 
men. Here Preble, Ward, and Poineroy received their 
appointments. And here was formed the important Com- 




THE PRESIDENTS HOUSE. 

mittee of Safety.^ Thus does the meeting-house still play 
its part as in the old Puritan days. 

But in these troublous times not even the Sabbath can 
be strictly regarded. The Massachusetts Congress has 
held its sessions on this sacred day ; but what discipline 

^ This edifice stood near Dane Hall. 



THE NEW ENGLAND ARMY. 201 

could not do for the Saljljatli in camp the religious educa- 
tion of all these men makes a day of perfect order and 
quiet. In all the camps the army chaplains have atten- 
tive listeners, who are told and believe that the God of 
Battles is on their side. 

Our tour of the college, and our investigation of its re- 
lation to the formation of the grand army of lilierty, 
naturally ends at the president's house, which is just en- 
tering its fiftieth year, and in which successive presidents 
of the college have lived and died. In tlie old hurying- 
ground, on the other side of the Common, we may read 
some of the long and pompous Latin epitaphs to their 
memory ; and among the graves we shall tind, now and 
then, a leaden coat-of-arms missing, and a little pool of 
water hi the place it once occupied. The soldiers have 
quietly dug the lead from the tombstones and run it into 
bullets. 

Before leaving the president's house, we may perhaps 
have the curiosity to see the form under which students 
are admitted. Here it is. 

• "Chap. I. Part of Law 2d. 

" The parents or guaixlians of those who have been accepted on 
examination, or some other person for them, shall pay to the steward 
three pounds in advance, towards defraying their college charges ; 
also shall give bond to the President and Fellows of Harvard Collqge 
with one or more sureties, to the satisfaction of the steward, in the 
sum of two hundred ounces of silver, to pay college dues quarterly, 
as they shall l)e charged in their quarter bills, according to the Laws 
and Customs of the College," etc. 



202 



AROUND THE HUB. 



Upon receiving from the steward a certificate that he 
had complied with tlie above law, the student could obtain 
from the president the following order of admission: — 

" Cantabrigiae, Auf,'ust 

" Admittatur in Collegium Harvardinum, A. B. 

"Praeses." 




XVL 

WASHINGTON. 

'T^HE colonies have resolved to make common cause. 
Their Congress, sitting at Philadelphia, has at 
length assumed the supreme direction of ah'airs. It de- 
clares them to l»e not a nation, indeed, Init " The Twelve 
United Colonies." And this is something out of which 
a nation may come. It has definitely adopted the army 
at Cambridge, hitherto the army of New England, as its 
own. 80 far it has lifted off the fearful responsibility 
from her shoulders. It has made choice of one of its own 
number, a delegate from Virginia, to command this army. 
This news will not be so pleasing. When the l:)allots are 
counted, John Hancock, rising from the president's chair, 
says, in a few words : — 

" Colonel Washington, the Congress has made choice of 
you to be Commander-in-chief. I congratulate you, sir, 
upon this high honor." 

This man's modesty was such that we are told he 
rushed from the hall when his name was first mentioned 
in connection with the office. 



204 AROUND THE HUB. 

Six feet tall, in the prime of life, a noble and com- 
manding figure rose in the midst of the delegates. 
Accepting the high trust, Colonel Washington must have 
won all hearts by the modesty with which he declared 
himself unequal to it. iVlthough he has never seen 
one pitched battle, nor commanded scarcely any other 
troops than forest rangers, into his hands are committed 
the destinies of the Revolution. For diplomacy can now 
do nothing ; arms must decide. 

The very day on which General Washington received 
his commission, the New England army was having its 
deadly struggle on Bunker Hill. 

Congress has also appointed four major-generals. They 
are Artemas Ward, Charles Lee, Philip Schuyler, and 
Israel Putnam. An adjutant-general and eight brigadiers 
are also appointed. Gates, the adjutant-general, Lee, and 
Schuyler set out with Washington for the army. The 
seneral carries tKe other commissions with him, to be 
delivered in person. 

At New York, the General, first hearing of the battle 
of Bunker Hill, eagerly incjuires how the Americans 
behaved, and if they stood the British fire. These are 
the men lie is gomg to lead. His anxiety is therefore 
([uite natural. 

The courier tells him they fought like brave men. 
" Then," exclaimed the General, his doubts set at rest, 
" the liberties of the country are safe." 



WASHINGTON. 205 

On Sunday, escorted by a troop of horse, and a caval- 
cade of citizens, the General enters Cambridge, passes one 
by one the elegant Tory mansions that skirt the road to 
Watertown, and dismounts at the army headquarters, — 
Jonathan Hastings's house.^ The thunder of the enemy's 
guns notities him that he has at last arrived. 

In this house he is cordially welcomed by General 
Ward and the superior officers of the army, who have 
assembled here, and who are anxious to see what their 
future commander is like. They see he is every inch a 
man, — his manner noble and dignihed, yet kind and 
winning. There is doubtless much whispering and many 
running comments upon his personal appearance, which 
we cannot help associating with character, after all. Not 
all were pleased that a Virginian is sent to take prece- 
dence of New England men ; but all see that he is one 
born to command, and that to-morrow the army will have 
a head. 

So George Washington eats his first dinner in this house 
with his future Ijrothers-in-arms. And they give him a 
hearty, old-fashioned. New England welcome, as they can 

1 It is related that once, when AVashingt(jn was travelling in Con- 
necticut on Sunday, he was stopped by a constat ile, who inquired of 
the coachman if there was any urgent reason for travelling on the 
Lord's Day. The General himself explained, with great civility, why 
he had found it necessary to continue his journey on that day, as- 
suring the officer that nothing was further from his intention than 
to treat with disresjject the laws uf Connecticut relative to the 
Sabbath. 



206 



AKOUND THE HUB. 



do when they will. After dinner Adjutant Gibbs, of 
Cllover's regiment, is hoisted, chair and all, upon the 




THE WASHINGTON ELM, CAMBRIDGE. 

table, and sings a rollicking camp-song. In this way 
the General meets the future commander of his body- 
guard. 

The enemy celebrates the arrival of the new rebel com- 
mander l)y pounding furiously away at Eoxbury with shot 
and shell. 

On Monday, the third day of the month, Washington 
takes command of the army. He puts on his blue and 



WASHINGTON. 207 

buff uniform, buckles on his sword, and, surrounded by 
his staff-officers, rides to the Common. It is a momentous 
act. The noble elm, under which he reins his horse, 
spreads its canopy of green over his head, while the 
columns of the army defile before him. All those thou- 
sands of eyes are fixed upon a single man, who curbs his 
fiery war-horse with a wrist of iron wliile graciously lift- 
ing his chapeau as the officers drop the points of their 
swords. Drums roll, fifes scream, huzzas fill the air, 
while the ground quakes under tlie tramp of this host. 

At sight of this figure, so godlike in his manhood, so 
calm and reliant in his bearing, in whose every gesture 
authority is felt, a thrill runs through the ranks. The 
halo of victory seems surrounding the warrior's head. 

Half-armed, clothed in homespun ; no flag, no traditions, 
no country to call its own, no discipline ; floating in 
uncertainty, friendless among nations ; no arsenals, no 
navy, no unity of purpose or of will, — this motley army 
marches by its new leader. He and they are rebels and 
traitors. If he fail, the halter awaits him. But should 
he win ! 

Well, the review is over. Washington canters off to 
his quarters. The regiments return to their barracks or 
camps. 

Tliis day begins a new order of things. The army is 
formed into three corps. Ward commands the right, at 
Eoxbury ; Putnam the centre, at Cambridge ; and Lee 



208 



AROUND THE HUB. 



the left, at Charlestown and Medford. Orders are read 
at the liead of the regiments, discipline enforced, and 
officers made to know their duty and to 
do it. 

The army signalizes the change in its 
^vay. One morning the British outposts 
on Boston Neck are driven in and their 
quarters burned. Again the Americans 
make descents uj)on the islands, destroying 
supplies, burning the lighthouse, and Icilling 
and capturing many of the enemy. The 
commander-in-chief is constant in inspect- 
ing his long line of investment, giving 
praise where it is due, gaining information, 
and winning the respect and good-will of 
all. Greater efficiency and enterprise are 
already resulting. On one of these tours 
he makes the acquaintance of Henry Knox, 
the Boston bookseller, turned engineer. 

The British are angry and vexed because it is almost 
always the Americans who attack. Besides, the rebel 
army has swept the country and islands so clean that it 
is difficult to get frash meat to eat at any price. That 
same officer who not long ago wrote home that he and his 
comrades were living on the fat of the land, now tells this 
story : — 

" If a boat, as sometimes happens, comes in with a few 




EARLY AMERI- 
CAN FLAG. 



WASHINGTON. 



209 



half-Starved sheep, we must pay a shilUng a pound, or eat 

no mutton." 

And a ch'ihan within the town contirms it thus dole- 
fully : — 

" AVe have now and then a carcass offered for sale in 
the market, which formerly we would not have picked up 
in the street Was it not for a trifle of salt pro- 
visions that we have, 't would l^e impossible for us to live. 
Pork and beans one day, and beans and pork another, and 
tish when we can catch it." 

The General has linally settled down in the fine old 
Yassall House, on the Watertown road, which, being 
deserted by its Tory owner, has been first occupied by 
Glover's I^Iarblehead regiment, composed of sailors, turned 
soldiers, who handle the oar and the musket equally well. 
It is a l)eautiful country-seat, this house, fronting the 
meadows through which the crooked Charles winds in 
glossy folds to the ocean. The hills of Little Cambridge 
and of Brookline, across the river, show clumps of forest, 
orchards, fields of yellow grain, with here and there a 
steeple, or a country-house, gleaming in the sun. The land- 
scape is dehcious, it is so peaceful. Then the house 
itself is airy and spacious. It was built by a gentleman 
of birth and fortune, who little dreamed that he would 
become an exile and his stately mansion be appropriated 
to the uses of war. Its exterior is imposing, its interior 
decorations and carvings tasteful, and even elegant. A 

14 



2lt> AROUND THE HUB. 

touch of the old refinement, wliich even a rude soldiery 
have not been able to drive away, lingers in the drawing- 
room, the wide entrance-hall, the wainscoted bed-cham- 
bers. The General is himself a man of aristocratic feelings. 
The house has a certain air of distinction. He is taken 
with it, and so henceforth and ever it is to be known 
as General Washington's headquarters. 

But the ease, the luxury, the unbroken quiet, which 
once made Cambridge so inviting a residence, and this 
house a palace of indolence over which the hours stole 
unperceived, must now give place to action, frugality, and 
bustle. There is work to be done. All this multitude, 
called an army, must be made one in reality ; while, at 
the same time, the enemy is watched, and checked, and 
menaced. The heart of the leader may have often sunk 
within him when he came face to face with his herculean 
task. But he keeps a bold and confident front. Such a 
man may die, but he is never vanquislied. 

First the army is thrown into brigades to give it form 
and mobility. Then Washington determines to make the 
defensive hne between the Charles and Mystic so strong 
that it cannot be forced. Ploughed Hill,^ then Cobble 
Hill,2 and finally Lechmere's Point,^ are covered with 
earthworks, trenches, and redoubts. The enemy does not 
know that there are no cannon for these batteries; he 

1 Since called Mt. Benedict. ^ Site of the McLean Asylum. 
^ East Cambridge. 



212 



AROUND THE HUB. 




does not know there is no powder for the cannon ; he does 
not know that there are not men enough to man these 

long lines. 

General 
Gage, when he 
finds it neces- 
sary to com- 
municate with 
his adversary 
by a fiag of 
truce, address- 
e s hi m a s 
" George Wash- 
ington, Esq." 
They sharpen 

their pens very much as they w^ould their swords against 
each other, these men who had fought and campaigned 
together not many years ago. 

Lively skirmishing goes on all the time between the 
outposts at Boston and Charlestown Neck. The Ameri- 
cans have been reinforced by a regiment of riflemen from 
A^irginia and Pennsylvania, who have marched all the 
way to join the army. 

These men have a dress — uniform it cannot be called 
— more savage than civilized, but still very serviceable 
and picturesque. It is a coarse brown linen hunting-shirt, 
or frock, with a cape, ornamented l)y a fringe, and secured 



FORT ON COBBLE HILL. 



WASHINGTON. 



21- 




FLAG OP morgan's RIFLES. 



at the waist by a belt, in which a knife and tomahawk are 
stuck. They also wear leggings and moccasins, like In- 
dians, worked with 
beads and brilliant- 
ly dyed porcupine 
quills. They also 
march in Indian 
file. They fight like 
Indians, from whom 
they have really 
learned the art of 
war. They under- 
stand it to 1)6 their 
business to kill an 
enemy whenever they can draw a bead on him. And as 
soon as they arrived, Washington having sent them at 
once to the advanced posts, they began rifle practice at 
five hundred yards upon the British working and skir- 
mishmg parties. 

But their dress is not so strange as their weapons, which 
until now have not been seen in the American camps. 
They carry a ball of small calibre, with accuracy, eight 
hundred yards. The British officers and men, while tak- 
ing a quiet promenade or observation of our lines, outside 
their works, supposing themselves far out of range, are 
knocked over by a bullet not much larger than a buck- 
shot. Presently one or two riflemen were captured, and 



214 AROUND THE HUB. 

their arms aud dress examined with much curiosity. The 
Britons wrote to their friends at home accounts of these 
new enemies, whom they style " shirt-tail men, with their 
cursed twisted guns, — the most fatal widow-and-orphan 
makers in the world." 

When these backwoodsmen first arrived in camp they 
were laughed at by their Northern comrades. This pro- 
voked angry words, then blows, between them and Glover's 
Marblehead men. A riot, which the officers found it im- 
possible to quell, was the result. Glover threw himself on 
his horse and galloped post-haste to headquarters. He 
informed the General that his own and the Virginia regi- 
ment were m a state of mutiny. The General rose, and 
mounting his horse, which was always kept ready saddled, 
rode quickly to the spot, arriving at the moment when 
the uproar had reached its highest point. To get at the 
mutineers a field had to be crossed. While his black 
servant was in the act of letting down the bars the Gen- 
eral, putting spurs to his horse, cleared them over Pompey's 
head, and dashed in among the rioters, who fell back to the 
right and left before him. Throwing his bridle to his 
servant, the General seized a tall, brawny rifleman by the 
throat with each hand, and l^egan shaking and reproach- 
ing them at the same time. His great physical strength, 
now seen for the first time, his commanding presence, his 
energetic action, caused a moment's lull in the combat. 
Washington seized the advantage. He called the officers 



WASHINGTON. 215 

to him, and with their help the disgraceful affair was 
stopped. He then mounted liis horse and rode back to 
his quarters, leaving officers and soldiers alike stupefied 
with what they had witnessed. 

To besiege Boston cannon must be had, mortars, and 
munitions. Accordingly great is the rejoicing when it is 
known in camp that Captain Manly with his privateer, 
Lee, has captured and taken into Marblehead a British 
brig loaded with ordnance and munitions of war destined 
for the army in Boston. Two thousand stands of arms, 
several brass field-pieces, and a thirteen-inch mortar are 
among the trophies ; and when they arrived in Cambridge 
Old Put, mounting the mortar, broke a bottle of rum over 
it, christening it the " Congress," amid deafening huzzas. 

Here is what a British letter-writer says about this most 
fortunate capture : — 

" This brig, whose safe arrival was of the utmost conse- 
quence to us, and whose cargo was of most infinite impor- 
tance to the rebels, because she contained the very things 
they were in the greatest need of, and could not be sup- 
plied with by any other possible means, was sent from 
England with other artillery ships, and she the only one 
of them without a soldier on. board, and totally unpro- 
vided with any means of defence. 'T is said they sailed 
under convoy of the ' Phoenix,' man-of-war, who quitted 
them a few days after they left the land. 

" As they are now enabled to burn Boston, I most sin- 



216 AROUND THE HUB. 

cerely hope they will do it, that we may be enabled to 
leave it, and transfer the scene to some other part of the 
continent." 

The Americans are now in great gooil humor. It is 
true, they say, that we have no arsenals, but the enemy 
has, and he will furnish what we need. 

But Washington has thought of another way to procure 
cannon. The fortresses of Ticonderoga and Crown Point, 
which now belong to the Americans, are well furnished. 
The removal of a part of their armament to Cambridge 
has been constantly talked of. Now it is to be done. 
Washmgton looked around hun for the man to do it, and 
his choice fell upon Henry Knox, who, with an instinct 
that it is his proper field, has zealously taken up the artil- 
lery branch of the service. So Knox is now on his way 
to Lake Champlain to get the l)attering train. 

]\Iean while the General receives many guests, both civil- 
ians and military men, at headquarters. Mrs. Washington 
presides with dignified grace at the General's table, which 
custom requires the ladies to leave when the gentlemen 
begin their wine. The duty of introducing these guests 
— for General Washington insists upon the observance of 
proper etiquette — is performed by young Trumbull,^ his 
aide-de-camp. 

' Afterwards the celebrated painter. He attracted Washington's 
notice while serxang as adjutant of Spencer's Connecticut regiment, 
by creeping near enough to the enemy's lines to make a drawing of 
them. 



WASHINGTON. 



217 




FLAG OF THE BODYGUARD. 



None of these guests is more honored, and none hstened 
to with such respectful attention, as our Boston hoy, 
Benjamin Frankhn, 
who has come up 
from Philadelphia 
to look into the state 
of the army. He 
is now an old man, 
but the simple fru- 
gality of his life has 
strengthened a nat- 
urally robust consti- 
tution, so that many 
years of honorable 
service are yet in store for him. When he speaks, the 
young officers, who have been asked to meet him, hang 
upon his words with the closest attention. 

This is the man who singly faced the assembled British 
Lords of Council without flinching ; who bore the sar- 
casms and abuse of the solicitor-general with perfect 
equanimity, while the noble lords laughed and cheered 
when that dignitary called him a thief in Latin, for hav- 
ing exposed the double-dealing of Governor Hutchinson. 
Let those laugh who win. They thought to crush Frank- 
hn ; but though of humble origin, he was the peer of all 
those titled blackguards. 

The man here who commands greater interest, per- 



218 AROUND THE HUB. 

haps, than ahiiost any of the superior officers is General 
Charles Lee. 

" A tall man, lank and thin, with a huge nose, a satirical 
mouth, and restless eyes, who sat his horse as if he had 
often ridden at fox-hunts in England, and wore his uniform 
with a cynical disregard of conLUion opinion." 

This is the portrait of Lee, a British colonel, living in 
America upon half -pay, who has espoused the patriot 
cause with impulsive ardor. Two of his fingers have 
been shot oft' in a duel. He has fought in Europe with 
distinction ; he has lived and hunted among the ]\Ioliawk 
Indians, who admired him and made him a chief. A wild 
and ad\enturous life has been his. Now lie has offered 
his sword to Congress, which looks upon him as a great 
accession to the cause. He is known to be capable and 
brave, and experienced officers are scarce. 

But everything aliout this new general is singular, and 
he is therefore the object of much curiosity. Washington 
gives him command of the left wing. He takes possession 
of the Koyall mansion, at Medford, christening it " Hob- 
goblin Hall." He is so careless of his dress as to give no 
clew to his rank ; and wherever he goes, a big, shaggy, 
Pomeranian dog stalks at his heels, — even to the com- 
mander-in-chief's select levees. Spada is the dog's name. 
So great is Lee's attachment to this animal that people 
say of him, " Love me, love my dog." 

General Lee is already a puzzle to his brother officers. 



WASHINGTOX. 



219 



But everything is put down to eccentricity. It is plain 
that he is anil.itious, but that is pardonaljle if it does not 
lead him too far. Doubtless he is a puzzle to Inmself : to 
friend or foe he may equally be a daiigerous man. 

General Gates, the new adjutant-general, is also become an 
important personage, as well from his confidential relation 
to the commander-in-chief, as for his duty to reorganize the 
army. He, too, was a retired English officer, living quietly 
upon his tine Virginia estate at the outbreak of die war. 
Xow he is probably the hardest-worked man at Cambridge. 
So the grave and sedate commander now has the sup- 
port of a few educated military men in his great under- 
taking. The army is restive. Its spirit tiags\is the sie-e 
drags its slow length along. The men want to see then- 
wives and little ones. When their short term of service- 
expires they refuse to enlist again, and go home in large 
bodies. Perilous indeed is the situation of aflairs while 
the army is being thus daily weakened. There are the 
miles of intrenchments, but where are the men to man 
them if attacked? Ah! should the enemy find out that 
they are defenceless! Paimor says that he does know 
this. Anxious days pass. A glomii hangs about head- 
quarters, and is visible in the faces of all. What a chance 
for Sir William Howe! Pmt he lets it slip by. The ghost of 
Bunker Hill waves him back. The British general^ias an 
army; the American has a few sentinels to personate one. 
But the leader is always dauntless, always grand. If 



220 AROUND THE HUB. 

he fears that all is over, nothmg betrays it. It is only in 
the silence and darkness of that upper chamber that he 
unbosoms himself ; and that no man sees. The Congress 
has made no mistake. True, its army has vanished, but 
the leader will find another. So trials, following trials, 
prove the wisdom of its choice. So may a single man be 
worth an army.^ 

^ A langliable story, though belonging to a later period, is told of 
General Washington's liead(|uarters. Samuel Breck is responsible for 
its appearance. When the first French squadron arrived in Boston, 
Nathaniel Tracy, who then lived in this house, gave a great banquet 
to the admiral and his officers. "Everything was furnished that 
could be had in the country to ornament and give variety to the 
entertainment. My father was one of the guests, and told me often 
after that two large tureens of soup were placed at the ends of the 
table. The admiral sat on the right of Tracy, and Monsieur de 
I'Etombe on the left. L'Etombe was consul of France, resident at 
Boston. Tracj' filled a plate with soup, which went to the admiral, 
and the next was handed to the consul. As soon as I'Etombe ))ut his 
spoon into his plate he fished up a large frog, just as green and per- 
fect as if he had hopped from the pond into the tureen. Not know- 
ing at first what it was, he seized it by one of its hind legs, and, 
holding it up in view of the whole company, discovered that it was a 
full-grown frog. As soon as he had thoroughly inspected it, and 
made himself sure of the matter, he exclaimed, ^ Ah ! mon Dieu ! 
un grenouille ! ' then, turning to the gentleman next to him, gave him 
the frog. He received it and passed it round the table. Thus the 
poor crapciud made the tour from hand to hand until it reached the 
admiral. The company, convulsed with laughter, examined the soup- 
plates as the servants brought them, and in each was to be found a 
frog. The uproar was imiversal. 'What's the matter?' asked 
Tracy, raising his head and surveying the I'rogs dangling by a leg in 
all directions. ' Why don't they eat them ? If they knew the con- 



WASHINGTON. 221 

Somewhat farther down the Watertown road toward the 
college, on the opposite side, is the house once owned by 
Governor Belcher. This has lately been the prison of a 
traitor. 

An intercepted letter, in cipher, disclosed the perfidy of 
a man who had hitherto been above suspicion. This was 
Dr. Benjamin Church, an early, and as all believed, one of 
the warmest of patriots. But his letter, intended for the 
enemy, condemned him. The commander-in-chief ordered 
his confinement in this house. Here let us leave him.^ 

Three or four more colonial estates invite us to continue 
our walk toward Watertown, where the Provincial Con- 
gress now sits. The first is that of Judge Sewall, the 
second that of Judge Lee, the third that of Mr. Fayer- 
weather, and the fourth that of Lieutenant-G-overnor 
Oliver. These estates occupy all the ground between 
headquarters and the great bend of the road.^ All are 
now deserted by their late occupants. 

The lieutenant-governor, the judges Sewall and Lee, 

founded trouble I had to catch them in order to treat them to a dish 
of their own country, they would find that with me, at least, it was 
no joking matter.' " 

1 This attractive colonial mansion is still standing, the grounds 
reaching to Ash Street. It was long the residence of the late 
Samuel Batchelder. 

2 That is, from Mr. Longfellow's to Mr. Lowell's. The old road 
did not go straight on by Mount Auburn, as at present, but passed 
by Governor Oliver's (Elmwood) house. All these houses are stand- 
ing as I write. 



222 



AROUND THE HUB. 



were all compelled to resign and take refuge in Boston 
before open hostilities broke out. They and their friends 
formed the aristocratic coterie of Cambridge, which held 




LIEUTENANT-GOVERNOR OLIVER'S. 

its head as high as any in the land. This strip of road 
crossed an earthly paradise into which the serpent of civil 
strife has now entered. 

Governor Oliver's has been taken for a hospital since 
the battle of Bunker Hill, the field opposite being used to 
bury sucli as have died of their wounds. 



XVII. 

TO ROXBUEY TOWN. 



TD ETURXTXd to the Common, we i^roceed directly to 
the l)ridge over the Charles, meaning now to pass 
over the road to Roxlnirv, viewing as we go the state of 
the defences and progress of the siege on that side. 

Lord Percy had to cross this bridge on his way to Lex- 
ington. The inhabitants took up the planks; but not 
ha\'ing secreted or destroyed them, his lordship passed his 
troops over, and so saved the first British detachment by 
joining them at the critical moment. 

Expecting that he would return this way, the Americans 
a second time dismantled the bridge, this time using the 
planks to barricade the south end. A considerable num- 
l:.er posted themselves behind the barricade, meaning to 
give the enemy a hot reception when he came. 

Singularly enough, this was the first and only obstruc- 
tion placed in the way of the enemy's advance and retreat 
during the 19th of April. 

Listead of falling into the trap thus set for him, Lord 
Percy took the Charlestown road and go escaped. We say 



224 AROUND THE HUB. 

escaped because, with eight miles more of ambuscades to 
march through, his ammunition exhausted, and his men 
ready to drop from fatigue, the chance of reaching Boston 
this way was a desperate one. Probably not half his 
command would have succeeded in gaining the British 

lines. 

When this strong reinforcement marched out of Boston 
neither officers nor men had the least idea that the Yan- 
kees were at that very moment driving their comrades in 
utter rout before them. So while one body marched 
slowly along with its usual insolent bearing, its music 
derisively playing Yankee Doodle, the other was approach- 
ing it on the run, shorn of all its p(3mp, deprived of its 
courage, — a mere mob of dirty, exhausted, and terrified 
fugitives. This day was pricked that impudent self- 
conceit with which the British army was so ridiculously 
inflated. 

So the small boy who planted himself where he could 
see Percy's columns pass by, who cut up such queer antics, 
and who laughed so immoderately that the Earl rode up 
to inquire what he was laughing at, was a sort of prophet 
of evil. 

" To think how you will dance by and by to the tune 
of Chevy Chase," ^ cried the young rebel. 

1 Read the ancient Enslisli ballad for an explanation of this 
answer. It does seem rather deep for a boy, but is narrated by 
the historian Gordon. 



TO ROXBLTRY TOWN. 225 

Did this saucy country urchin possess the gift of second 
sight ? and did he see the soldiers of the monarchy every 
moment biting tlie dust along the Lexington highway ? 

The brigade marches througli Roxbury and" takes the 
Cambridge road. Not a soul is anywhere to be seen. 
One would have thought the country suddenly depopu- 
lated. The road is abandoned, the houses shut up and 
deserted. An ominous silence reigns everywhere. 

One long catalogue of blunders signalled the history of 
this ill-starred expedition. Let us number a few of thJm. 
In the first place, General Gage confided his secret 
intention to some one who told it. The Americans were 
thus forewarned and alert. 

In the second, the preparations were so faulty that the 
grenadiers and light-infantry stood for two hours waiting 
on the Cambridge marshes after landing there. These two 
hours gave time for the country to be thoroughly alarmed 
in advance of the troops. The intended surprise was 
therefore a signal failure. 

In the third, a negligent officer only half executed the 
orders for Percy's brigade to get under arms in season for 
it to march at an early hour. Neglect and red-tape thus 
prevented the junction of Percy with Colonel Smith at 
Concord. Had that taken place, the British would then 
have been too strong to be driven like sheep. 

In the fourth, Lord Percy's neglect to secure the bridge 
at Cambridge, over which he must pass, was the cause not 



15 



226 AROUND THE HUB. 

only of delay, but the loss of liis provisions and anununi- 
tion. The wagons containing them, having fallen behind 
the main body, were captured by our people. Having 
soon expended his cannon ammunition, the pieces were 
only so much old brass, and they impeded his rapid 
retreat ; but a sentiment of honor obliges an army to save 
its cannon at all hazards. And as a certain portion of 
good luck always falls to the share of blunderers, the 
king's troops effected their retreat safely. 

The Americans too, wanting a leader, wanting previous 
and concerted action, did not make the best use of their 
opportunities. After expecting this very movement so 
long, they were really disconcerted by it. They practised 
the irregular bush-fighting of the Indians with great effect; 
but they neither destroyed a bridge, felled a tree, or barri- 
caded a road, except m the single instance men- 
tioned. 

As this was a conflict between squads or individuals 
there were many trials of individual courage. A Briton 
and American met by the roadside. The first, levelling 
his musket, said : — 

" You are a dead man ! " 

" You are another 1 " his adversary exclaimed, covering 
his enemy with fatal aim. 

Both fired at the same instant. Both fell. 

Another desperate encounter, that will long l)e told at 
the family fireside, was the duel between Eliphalet Downer 



TO ROXBUKY TOWN. . 227 

of Punch-Bowl Village^ and a grenadier. The soldier 
had stopped to pillage a house when he and the minute- 
man saw each other. Both fired at the same instant and 
both missed. They then closed in deadly struggle with 
the bayonet. But Downer soon found he was no match 
for his antagonist with this weapon. Seconds must decide. 
Collecting all his strength for a decisive eftbrt, he suddenly 
reversed his firelock, and dealing the Briton a terrific blow 
on the head with the butt, brought him to the ground. 
He then finished him with the cold steel. 

This "great bridge," as it was long called, which we 
have now crossed, was one of the first ever built in the 
colony, and before its day a ferryman conveyed people to 
and fro." 

This, too, is the great highway between Boston and the 
interior, particularly the western and southwestern por- 
tions of New^ England, by which reinforcements, munitions, 
and provisions must arrive for the army. It is now also 
an important military road traversing the American lines, 
and as such must be strictly maintained. If the British 
can land a force and get possession of this road somewhere 
between Cambridge and Eoxbury, they can cut off one 
part of the investing army from the other. If they 

^ A precinct of Brookline formerly so called from the Punch 
Bowl Tavern, a famous resort in its day. 

2 Brighton was then a part of Cambridge, called Little Cambridge 
in the Revolutionary time. 



228 AROUND THE HUB. 

can hold it they can compel Washington to raise the 
siege. 

The General expects this ; for the enemy's boats con- 
stantly patrol the river, and he keeps one or two ships of 
war well up the channel. The boats are seen taking 
soundings, while the ships are kept ready for action. By 
and by the broad basin here will be solidly frozen so that 
the river will form a bridge over which troops may march 
as easily as on the land. 

In order to protect his camps at Cambridge and his 
communication with Eoxbury, Washington has caused the 
erection of redoubts on each side of the Charles, near its 
mouth. 1 These will effectually stop the enemy from going 
up the river. But a still better thing is going to be done. 
The enemy's vessels are to be driven out of the river 
altogether. 

Our progress towards Eoxbury is not to be delayed by 
anything more .important than the movement of small 
bodies of soldiers, — probably recruits going to join the 
army, — ox-carts and wagons impressed for the transporta- 
tion of supplies from the inland towns, — for Washington's 
army is mainly fed Ijy requisitions upon the towns for so 
much flour, beef, pease, hay," etc., — droves of cattle or 
sheep, grimy laborers repairing the roadway, and exchang- 
ing a jest or a scrap of camp news with the wagoners or 

1 These forts were a short distance above the bridge now connect- 
ing Brookliue and Cambridgeport. 



TO EOXBURY TOAVN. 229 

drovers, or a cavalcade of officers going the rounds from 
post to post. 

Al)out a mile south of the bridge we pass the house of 
Colonel Thomas Gardner, one of the fallen heroes of Bun- 
ker Hill. He fell mortally wounded while leading a 
portion of his regiment from Bunker Hill up to the redoubt 
at the most critical moment of the day. His son, a youth 
of nineteen, wished to assist his wounded parent from the 
field of carnage, but the father — stern old Boman that he 
was — ordered the lad to remain and do his duty in the 
battle.^ 

Borne from the field upon a rude litter, the expiring 
hero coidd yet speak cheering words to the soldiers whom 
the dreadful scenes of the day had unnerved. One of the 
very first orders Washington published to his army was a 
tribute of respect to this gallant soldier, who was buried 
with military honors by command of the beloved chief. 

The district through which we are passing is wholly 
devoted to farms. The houses, except near the village 
centres, are quite unfrequent and of the antiquated pat- 
tern seen everywhere in the country. They are certainly 
very humble-looking ; 1 jut to defend them the stout Middle- 
sex yeomanry have taken their old Queen's arms and gone 
to camp, followed by the Ijlessings of wives, mothers, and 
sw^eethearts. 

^ The house of Jesse Turell now occupies the site of Colonel 
Gardner's, that having been removed to Allston Street. 



A^ 



XVIII. 

ROXBURY CAMP AND LINES. 

T tlie left of tlie road, just before descending Parker 
Hill into the thickly settled part of Eoxbury, we 
come to the comfortable country-seat of the Brhileys, a 
family of note in the Province. Although now the proper- 
ty of Eobert Pierpont, a Boston merchant, this mansion is 
still known as Colonel Brinley's. 

Since being assigned to the command of the right of the 
army. General Artemas Ward has fixed his headquarters 
in this house. ' Near by is the noble eminence of Parker 
Hill, on which several regiments have pitched their tents ; 
while just beyond us rise the formidable and precipitous 
rocks, forming the Americans' second line by a chain of 
forts and redoubts of great natural and artificial strength. 
Indeed, as we examme it from this spot, the crest of 
the next high hill seems unassailable. A cluster of 
naked gray rock, showing here and there a huge boulder, 
stopped -m its descent, rises above the thickets surround- 

1 This house stood next to the fine cathedral of the Redemptorists 
which now occupies the old estate. 



EOXBUEY CAMP AND LINES. 



231 



ing its base. This has been fortified with great labor and 
skill. If driven from all other posts, the Americans will 
hold this one to the last. 

Leavmg General Ward's, we come to houses scattered 
along the road where it crosses Stony Brook. From a 




HIGH FORT, ROXBUIIY. 

very early time there has been a 

mill here, around which these 

houses have collected. The place is now called Pier^Dont's 

Village, from the ancient mill-owner of tliat name.^ 

Beginning now to ascend towards the heights we have 
just seen from the road, we pass first the Workhouse on 
our right, then a large earthwork on our left, built at the 
intersection of the Camliridge with the Dedham and 
Ehode Island road. This work covers these important 
highways. 

Pause a moment here, — long enoufjh to read the in- 



^ Pierpont's Village now coincides with the junction of Tremont 
and Roxbiuy Streets. 



232 



ABOUND THE HUB. 




scription upon this stone placed at the junction, or rather 
parting of these roads. From this circumstance it is called 
the " Parting Stone," and is a well-known 
point of direction to all travellers. In 
common parlance it is a mile-stone. One 
side directs to Cambridge and Watertown, 
the other to Dedham and Ehode Island. 
The tired wayfarer may sit and rest 
upon it ere he takes the hot road again. 
And perhaps the honorable Paul Dudley, 
wdiose name is cut at the bottom, may 
have thought of this use when placing the 
stone here. If so it was a kmd act. 

It is said that a certain Duke of Argyle 
once placed posts upon the public ways 
for his brother Scotsmen to rub themselves, pig-like, 
against. When Sandy came to one of these posts he 
would fervently exclaim, "God bless the Duke of Argyle ! " 
But this is much better done. Let us thank Paul 
Dudley, and kmdly commit his gift to the care of future 
generations. 

But we are at length arrived within the limits of an- 
other large military encampment, denoting the presence of 
a considerable force. Ptight before us, in the centre of the 
hill, rises Eoxbury Meeting-House, on the spot where that 
great and good man, John Eliot, preached so long ago. 
This, then, is Meeting-House Hill. 



THE PARTING 
STONE. 




^rf-\ X 






234 



AROUND THE HUB. 




iiflfesfe. 





This too is the princi- 
pal post of (leneral 
/ Ward's command. It is 
a much cooler and more 
IV inviting spot than Cam- 
bridii'e Common, beincr 
■'-■''[[■^,^'^^^^6^ reached by the breezes 
•JUL v.\i:>us\Gi:. from the bay. From the 

camps here all Boston may be seen, and any demonstration 
made by the enemy instantly detected and provided 
against. 

So that when the militia swarmed like angry bees after 
the battle of Lexington, they pitched their bivouacs upon 
this commanding hill ; but in a few days the greater 
portion left for home as suddenly as they came. True, 
they couhl not be greatly blamed for doing so, for they had 
marclied at a moment's notice under tlie impulse of fierce 
excitement. The officers saw this wholesale desertion with 
great apprehension, but without the power to prevent it. 
One of them Colonel Lemuel Eobinson, was ordered to hold 
this position with only six or seven hundred men. Now 
it is one thing to order and another to perform. lie had 
no officers to assist him, he had nine miles of country to 
patrol and guard ; yet upon his vigilance everything de- 
pended. For nine days and nights the Colonel never took 
off his clothes or lay down to sleep. 

General John Thomas took the command here until re- 



KOXBUEY CAMP AND LINES. 235 

lieved Ijy General Ward. Since then he is his most 
trusted otticer, but acting now under his commission of 
brigadier from the Continental Congress. His camp is 
the healthiest and most orderly of any. He is a very cool, 
sagacious, and l)rave officer, experienced in war and wise 
in council. Prom him Massachusetts expects as much, 
perhaps, as from any man she has sent into the field, 
smce the lamented Warren's death. He occupies the 
parsonage as his headquarters. 

A man of ready wit, too, is General John Thomas. 
Hearing that General Gage means to come out and attack 
him, and having only seven hundred men, he hits upon 
this clever trick of war. The l)row of the hill is in plain 
view from the l^ritish lines. In order to deceive the 
enemy as to his real weakness, he kept his seven hundred 
men marching for several hours around the hill, so as to 
give the appearance of large bodies of troops arriving and 
manoeuvring. Time was thus gained, when time w^as 
everything. 

From Meeting-House Hill, back of it, lifts the high 
rocky eminence we first descried when approaching by the 
Cambridge road. The Americans are still busy as bees 
strengthening it and placing heavy cannon in position. 
This is usually called Eoxbury High Fort, and by some it 
is called the " Upper Fort," to distinguish it from the one 
lower down and nearer to us. It was at the troops en- 
camped here, on Meeting-House Hill, that the enemy 



236 AIIOUND THE HUB. 

directed his cannonade on the 17th of June. This 
was done to prevent the sending of any troops from Eox- 
bury to reinforce their comrades in the battle. From the 
upper windows of General Thomas's headquarters Charles- 
town is in full view, but the distance is too great for the 
spectators of that day to distinguish with the naked eye 
how the battle was going. The anxiety was, on this ac- 
count, all the greater. The Connecticut troops, then 
occupying the ground Ijetween the meeting-house and the 
road, could not stand Lord Percy's fire and they could not 
return it ; so they had to fall back to the summit of the 
hill behind them, where they lay all night on their arms, 
expecting an attack every hour. 

The atljutant of Spencer's regiment has kindly preserved 
for us the following particulars of that night of dread : — 

" Charlestown, which lay full in our view, was one ex- 
tended line of fire. The British were apparently appre- 
hensive that their obstinate enemy might rally and renew 
the action, and therefore kept up during the night a fre- 
quent fire of shot and shells in the direction of Cambridge. 
The roar of artillery, the bursting of shells (whose track, 
like that of a comet, was marked on the dark sky by a 
long train of light from the burning fuse), and the blazing 
ruins of the town, formed altogether a sublime scene of 
military magnificence and ruin. That night was a fearful 
breaking-in for young soldiers, who there for the first time 
were seeking repose on the summit of a bare rock sur- 
rounded by such a scene." 



ROXBUKY CAMP AND LINES. 



237 



When lie spoke of young soldiers Adjutant Trumbull 
was no doubt thinking of himself, for he was not quite 
twenty years of age when on this day he for the first 
tune saw men falUng under the enemy's fire within reach 
of his arm.^ 

We first have leave to inspect the lower fort, which is 




ROXBURY FORT FROM A POWDER-HORN, 

1 Trumbull, after the war was over, painted his great historical 
picture of the battle of Bunker Hill in London, in the studio of 
Benjamin West. Some of the British officers who had fought in the 
battle sat to him for their portraits. 



238 AROUND THE HUB. 

very eligibly located about two hundred yards above the 
meeting-house.^ The hill-top is in some places so bare of 
soil that earth to form the ramparts had to be taken where 
it could be found. About two acres arc enclosed by its 
walls, which zig-zag according to the configuration of the 
rock on which the fort stands. Two twenty-four pounders 
have been dragged up the hill and placed in position. 

The soldiers love to ornament their powder-horns with 
carvings, some of wdiich are very skilfully done. In this 
way they preserve a sort of record of their campaigns, as 
the Indians did. One has thus engraved upon his horn a 
ground-plan of this very fortification, showing, besides the 
cannon, the lances kept ready to repel an assault. These 
lances, or spears, are well greased, so that an enemy cannot 
grasp them, reminding one of the boarding-pikes used in 
naval combats. They answer very well in room of bayon- 
ets, and General Ward says that if our men at Breed's Hill 
had been provided with them they would have held their 
ground. 

The high fort, which we first observed, lies back of this 
one and overlooks it. It would not do, therefore, to leave 
so commanding a position unguarded. 

With these works the Americans now threaten the 
enemy, should he attempt to advance from his Imes on 
Boston Neck, and they at the same time cover the roads to 

1 Near the junction of Highland with Cedar Street, and partly 
upon the beautiful estate of N. J. Bradlee. 



KOXBUEY CAMP AXD LIXES. 239 

Cambridge, Dedhani, and Dorchester. General Thomas's 
pickets are thrown well out on the Neck, his advanced 
post being at the George Tavern. So far, on this side as 
well as on that of Charlestown, the Americans have been sat- 
isfied to maintain a blockade by land, without attempting 
to drive the ensmy out. They have not yet the means. 

Of course, seeing these works going on, the British tried 
to stop them by firing at the workmen. Our raw soldiers 
were at first so much terrified by the screaming of shot 
and explosion of bombs that they would drop their tools 
and run helter-skelter for the nearest shelter. To render 
them more courageous a reward was offered in general 
orders for every cannon-ball picked up and brought to 
headquarters. This had the effect desired. The men, 
when they saw a ball strike, and then rebound and skip 
along the ground, would run after it with all the eagerness 
of school-boys playing at a favorite game. If it was a 
shell, they would snatch the burning fuse away. But, after 
all, the order proved an unfortunate one, for several soldiers 
had their feet badly crushed while trying to stop a ball 
which seemed to be slowly rolling along, but had not quite 
spent its force. So this dangerous game of foot-ball was 
discontinued. 

Having seen all that we may in this region, let us now 
descend the hill on the side opposite to that by which we 
came, taking a look over the Neck, which has become a 
sort of duelling-ground for the advanced guards of both 



240 AROUND THE HUB. 

armies, because if one side undertakes to do a V)old thing 
the other tries to counteract it with a bolder. 

At the foot of the hill we tind the old, time-honored 
estate of the Dudleys,^ covered with intrenchments, for 
military necessity respects neither the living nor the dead, 
and this house stood where the roads to Dorchester and 
Cambridge divide. It is also a sort of outwork to the 
forts we have just visited on the heights ; it has, there- 
fore, a strategic importance. 

The old mansion was demolished a few days after the 
battle of Bunker Hill, the Ijrick walls of the basement 
now forming the northeast angle of the fortification. So 
good-by to the sturdy old governor's New England home 
and to all the Dudleys who have since lived here in state. 
Perhaps it is less respected that its latest inhabitant, Isaac 
Winslow, farmer, is a Tory refugee in Boston. 

It would not take us much out of our way were we 
now to ascend the upper road to Dorchester as far as the 
old farm-house on the left in which that noble young 
martyr to the patriot cause. General Joseph Warren, was 
born.2 The house is now, however, in the occupation of 
the Provincial infantry. It is simply a substantial, unpre- 
tending dwelling, like the hundreds we have already seen, 
and which all seem the work of one builder. 

But let us hasten on until we reach the old burial- 

1 The Universalist Church now stands on the spot. 

2 This house was on Warren Street. Its site is now marked by 
a stone dwelHng with appropriate tablets in the walls. 



ROXBURY CAMP AND LINES. 



241 



ground in which the ashes of EHot and the Dudleys mingle 
with the dust. 

We now find it to be true that in war neither the abodes 
of the living nor the dead can be spared. For right here 




THE WARREN HOMESTEAD. 



the Americans have carried an earthwork quite across 
the highway, while beyond, toward Boston, it is still 
further obstructed by trees that have been cut down 
for the purpose. This is the " Burying-Ground Eedoubt." 
Those trees are to stop the British cavalry from riding 
out some morning with drawn sabres to pay us a visit. 
Along the highway we see the ruins of houses pulled down 
to prevent their being occupied by the enemy and to give 

m 



242 AROUND THE HUB. 

the gunners a clear view of the Neck ; and we further 
note that the houses in this vicinity show every now and 
then a shot-hole, a tottering chimney-stack, windows with 
not a whole pane of glass remaining, or walls shattered 
or split by bursting shells ; now and then one has been 
set on fire and half consumed before it could be extin- 
guished. 

So that by the hand of friend and foe — for war makes 
no distinction here — the peaceful homes of Christian 
people are given up to destruction. The regulars, who 
send their shot red-hot from the furnace among these 
dwellings, feel no compunction, ■ — not they- They do not 
care whom or how many they may render houseless or 
homeless. Yesterday it was Charlestown, to-day it is Kox- 
bury ; and to-morrow, it may be, some other thriving town 
will be given to the flames. But the Americans care. 
They are figliting now for their hearthstones. The regular 
is fighting for sixpence a day. 

By going as far as our pickets, who are posted on the 
high ground at the George Tavern, we plainly descry the 
strong works erected by the enemy some distance in front 
of the old fortifications. A formidable array of cannon 
glistens on the ramparts. His picket-post is at Enoch. 
Brown's chimneys. The houses are no longer there. 

A night or two ago the two great guns at the high fort 
drove their shot into the British works, causing the picket 
to leave their post in a hurry. Our people were not dis- 



EOXBURY CAMP AND LINES. 243 

posed to let the enemy hold so advanced a position at 
Brown's, from which he might make a dash at our lines. 

We hear that two Americans, who volunteered to so 
down and set fire to Brown's house, store, and barn, were 
killed in the attempt. They went boldly toward the 
enemy, and even reached the houses, Ijut, being discov- 
ered, and thought to be deserters coming in to give them- 
selves up, a party came out of the works to meet them. 
Upon their approach the two Americans fired and then 
retreated, but were instantly saluted with a volley by 
which both were killed. 

This little exploit only rendered the Americans still 
more determined to accomplish their purpose. It ren- 
dered the British insolent, for at daybreak on the follow- 
ing morning they came up and fired on our sentinels at 
the tavern. Our people returned the compliment, when 
the regulars ran off', as our lads jestingly say, " without 
paying their score." 

These houses were, however, no longer to serve the enemy 
as a place to skulk in. 

On the evening of the 8th of July two hundred men 
were quietly got under arms. They belonged to Ehode 
•Island and Massachusetts regiments, and were commanded 
by the gallant Tupper and the brave Crane. At ten o'clock 
six picked men made their way across the marsh to the 
rear of the guard-house occupied by the enemy. The rest 
concealed themselves in the marsh, on both sides of the 



244 AROUND THE HUB. 

Neck, at about two hundred yards from the house. Two 
small cannon were also quietly brought to the spot. As soon 
as the six pioneers gained the desired position, they gave 
the signal agreed upon, when two rounds of cannon-shot 
instantly crashed through the guard-house. The British 
guard of forty-five or fifty men did not wait for a second 
discharge, but were saluted as they came out by a tremen- 
dous volley of small arms. The six men then set the 
house on fire, and it v/as burned to the ground.^ 

Thus here on the Neck the officers on both sides are 
continually planning how they may do each other the 
most mischief. It is tit for tat, blow for blow, shot for 
shot. 

Occasionally an officer of one side or the other goes out 
from the advanced post waving a white handkerchief on 
the point of his sword. He thus signifies a desire for an 
interview, or in the military phrase, a " parley." Then, at 
sight of this little square of cloth, all firing stops ; then 
the men, who just now were scheming how they could kill 
or disable each other, meet under this banner of peace — 
a flag of truce — like old friends. They shake hands, 
joke, and banter each other. Having despatched the 
business which brought them together, they no sooner 
gain the shelter of their own works than they again 
begin shooting at each other in cold blood. 

1 The British soon, however, retaliated by setting fire to and de- 
stroying the George Tavern. This gallant feat was performed by 
Captain Evelyn of the King's Own. 



XIX. 

ORDERS OF THE DAY. 

'T^HE dreary winter has passed away, and still the hos- 
tile armies remain confronting each other as they 
have done ever since the 19th of April. 

Washington has kept his army busy intrenching. On 
his left, Cobble Hill and Lechmere's Point have been 
heaped with earthworks, which have driven the enemy's 
shipping out of the Charles. On his right, the Eoxbury 
lines are advanced as far as the George Tavern ; and on 
his extreme right, he has thrown up works at the Five 
Corners commanding the road to Dorchester Neck. 

But behind these miles of intrenchments his first army 
has melted away, and he has been obliged to form another, 
with an enemy ready and waiting to take advantage of his 
weakness. These are anxious days for the General ; these 
are critical hours for America. 

At last ! At last the army is again strong. At last our 
frowning batteries bid the enemy defiance. At last the 
cannon have come. 



246 ABOUND THE HUB. 

Yes, on a train of sleds Knox has at last brought all 
those guns and mortars from Lake Champlain. On the 
24th of January they arrive in camp. From this day 
the real siege begins. 

For this gallant exploit Washmgton hands Knox his 
commission as colonel of artillery. As fast as possible 
the cannon and the mortars are put in position. The 
bare earthen walls begin to show their teeth. All through 
the month of February the greatest activity prevails in the 
American encampments. This army is at last getting 
ready to fight. 

All the heights around Boston are now included in the 
American line of investment, except those of Dorchester, 
which command Ijoth the town and the harbor. It is 
finally determined at headquarters to seize and fortify 
these. 

Let us now turn over a few of the orders issued from 
headquarters during these momentous days : — 

" Headquarters, Feb. 27, 1776. 

" Parole Hancock, Countersign Adams. [Extract.] As the season 
is now fast approaching when every man must expect to be drawTi 
into the field of action, it is highly necessary that he should prepare 
his mind as well as every necessary for it. It is a noble cause we are 
engaged in : it is the cause of virtue and mankind. Every temporal 
advantage to us and our posterity depends on the vigor of our exer- 
tions. In short, freedom or slavery must be the result of our con- 
duct. There can, therefore, be no greater inducement for men to 
behave well; but it may not be amiss for the troops to know that if 



ORDERS OF THE DAY. 247 

any man in action shall presume to skulk, or hide himself, or retreat 
from the enemy without the order of his commanding officer, he will 
be instantly shot down as an example of cowardice." 

Washingfcon has informed the Provincial Congress of 
his intention, and that body has ordered the mihtia in 
from the country to take part in the closing scenes. For 
Washington rightly concludes that his movement upon 
Dorchester will either bring on a general action or drive 
the enemy from Boston. He has fully determined to 
make an end of the siege. With this view he has formed 
four thousand men, at Cambridge, into a picked corps, 
under the command of General Putnam. Now, if the 
British attack him in force at Dorchester, these four thou- 
sand men will emljark in boats, prepared for the purpose, 
and attack on the west side of Boston. 

The night of the 2d of March comes. All is quiet. 
But the American cannoneers, standing motionless around 
their guns, are waiting for something. From the rocky 
and mounded heights, shrouded in thick darkness, they see 
the lights of the beleaguered town dimly twinkling in the 
distance. The inhabitants, suspecting nothing, are in tlieir 
beds. Mothers clasp their babes to their hearts. Watch- 
men . nod and sentinels yawn in the streets. Confiding iu 
Heaven, the town goes fast asleep. 

One hour before midnight the watchers on the American 
ramparts see the flash and hear the boom of a single gun. 
It is the signal. In an instant the heavens are lighted 



248 AROUXD THE HUB. 

with the flashes of a hundred fiery mouths. Tlie deadly 
missiles go crashing among the houses as if each had its 
separate errand of destruction. Startled from their 
peaceful slumbers, the people rush frantically into the 
streets. Many believe the Judgment Day has come. 
Soon the enemy's batteries reply, and until daybreak from 
shore to shore the iron tempest falls unceasingly. 
We will now turn another leaf : — 

'' Headquarters, March 3, 1776. 
" [Extract.] Two companies of Colonel Thomson's rifle regiment 
are to march to-morro'.v evening to Roxbury with their Llankets, 
arms, and three days' provisions ready dressed. The officer com- 
manding will receive his orders from the adjutant-general. Colonel 
Hutchinson's and Colonel French's regiments are to march to Rox- 
bury l\v sunrise on Tuesday morning, with their Ijlankets, arms, and 
three days' provisions ready dressed." 

This ni"ht the bombardment is resumed with greater 
fury than ever. Bundles of screwed hay, fascines, and 
intrenching tools have been collected in vast numbers at 
Eoxbury. The surgeons have made a great store of lint, 
bandages, and stretchers for the wounded. The engineers 
have also prepared and have in readiness a quantity of 
chandeliers or planks having an upright picket at each 
end. The country round has been swept clean of carts to 
carry all this material to Dorchester. 

On the 4th Eoxbury presents a scene of activity and 
bustle. The streets and camps look as if it had been 



ORDERS OF THE DAY. 249 

raining men. Everything is ready. The militia have 
come in in swarms to take the places of the troops who 
are to meet the enemy in the field. Spears are sharpened, 
powder and ball served out, canteens filled, arms carefully 
inspected, and, as is usual in moments of intense expecta- 
tion, every one is anxious to put an end to the suspense. 

General Washington understands that imagination 
exerts a powerful effect upon soldiers. If he can arouse 
their enthusiasm by some appeal to their feelings they will 
fight all the better for it. He and his council having first 
decided to offer battle, next considered what day to fix 
upon for the purpose. They settled upon the 5th of 
March, — the day of the Boston Massacre. 

This is the last general order preceding the movement 
upon Dorchester : — 

"Headquarters, March 4, 1776. 

" The flag on Prospect Hill and that at the Laboratory on Cam- 
bridge Common are to be hoisted only upon a general alarnm ; of 
this the whole army is to take particular notice, and immediately 
upon those colors being displayed, every officer and soldier must 
repair to his alarum post. This to remain a standing order until the 
Commander-in-chief shall please to dii-ect otherwise." 



XX. 

THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

\ T sunset, tlie hour for which thousands have so 
eagerly waited, the suppressed excitement in the 
camps at Eoxbury breaks forth. At the first tap of the 
drum armed men spring from the ground, battalions 
muster, columns form. A feverish excitement marks the 
importance of the hour. The long train of wagons moves 
out on the frozen road. The drivers speak to their animals 
in low voices ; the officers give the word of command in 
whispers. 

Darkness quickly settles down over the scene. Now for- 
ward ! A darkly moving mass advances at a quick step 
along the Dorchester road. This is the vanguard of eight 
hundred men. No huzzas, no disorder, nothing but that 
muffled and solid tread on the frozen road. Their com- 
rades look on in silence as they move silently by. Now 
three hundred wagons, loaded with fascines, hay, and in- 
trenchhig tools, follow the vanguard. Soon they too are 
swallowed up in the darkness. Now that long line, 
stretching a wall of black up the hillside, suddenly de- 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 



251 



tacliing itself, is put in motion. One, two, three, four 
strong battalions tramp by. Each dusky face is set and 
determined. Now they are gone. Two thousand four 
hundred Continentals are movino- at the will of one man 
to seize Dorchester Heights. That one man is General 
Washington. 




GOVERNOR SHIRLEY S MANSION. 

Nothing that human foresight can supply has been for- 
gotten. The men know this ; they know that they will 
not be compelled, after toiling all night with the spade, to 
fight all the next day with the musket. There is discipline 
and tttere is the confidence of leadership. The mistakes 
of Bunker Hill will not be repeated here. 

The long procession, on its way, marches past the fine 
old mansion of Governor Shirley, who built it ; but the 



252 AROUND THE HUB, 

fate of many of the palatial colonial residences — and 
this is one of the grandest — has also overtaken this 
one ; for having passed out of the governor's hands mto 
the possession of his son-in-law, Judge Eliakim Hutchin- 
son, it is now, as the estate of a Tory, held by the Pro- 
vincial Government, and appropriated to military uses. 
It is now a barrack. Colonel Whitcomb's regiment 
occupies the house and grounds as an advanced post 
toward the Dorchester lines and for the security of these 
lines. That regiment has already joined these troops 
detailed for the work of to-night. 

Seven o'clock. The front has now arrived at the lines 
at the Five Corners, beyond which there is only a long 
and narrow causeway leading to the Neck and to the 
Heights. Here a halt is ordered. 

In the angle of the roads here stands the house of Mr. 
Commissioner Burch,^ an officer of his Majesty's customs, 
and a stanch Loyalist. This proprietor, too, has fled, and 
his house is now a barrack, most conveniently situated at 
the extreme outpost of the Americans. To think of that 
ragamuffin soldiery cutting their meat on his mahogany 
tables with their swords, and prodding his ceilings with 
their bayonets, is enough to make the owner foam with 
rage. 

Without leaving their ranks the troops wait here for 

^ Like the Shirley mansion, this house is also still standing. It is 
the birthplace of Edward Everett. 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 253 

orders. As the moon rises, its light threatens discovery, 
but fortunately a cold haze, settling over the land and 
water, renders the column invisible to the enemy's senti- 
nels. Fortune thus favors the Americans, for the cause- 
way over which they must now pass is eniiladed by the 
British cannon on Boston Neck. But this too has been 
provided for. Let us walk on. 

The bundles of liay are now being unloaded and placed 
along that side of the causeway next to the enemy, thus 
forming a protection behind which the troops may defile 
in safety. This is soon effected. The enemy's batteries 
remain silent. 

Suddenly, at half-past seven, fire streams from an Amer- 
ican battery in Eoxbury. The bombardment begins anew 
as on the preceding nights, only this time it is a signal 
and a blind, — a signal to General Thomas to march boldly 
on, a blind to hide that march from the enemy. 

And General Thomas — for it is he who commands the 
expedition — once more puts his columns in motion to the 
sound of the cannon. If they pass unperceived, they are safe. 
The troops, startled and excited by the incessant explo- 
sions and the deafening roar of artillery around them, 
push on across the long and narrow causeway to the firm 
ground opposite. Thus far all is well. In places where 
the carts have become tightly wedged in the road, the 
soldiers are obliged to turn out and take to the marshes. 
At length all are crossed. 



254 AROUND THE HUB. 

Here the advanced guard, dividing in two columns, is 
pushed forward, one to the farthest seaward point of the 
neck, opposite to which Castle William rises darkly out 
of the sea, one to the shore nearest to the town of Bos- 
ton. They thus form two strong guards watchmg the 
least movement of the enemy. 

At the same tune Thomas leads the mam body directly 
up the heights, which have two commanding eminences. 
The engineers lay out the works, the pickets are driven, 
the intrenching materials are unloaded, and the men, 
piling their arms, begin to break the solid crust of the 
earth with their sturdy blows. 

The ground is hard frozen to the depth of eighteen 
inches. To throw up earthworks with rapidity is there- 
fore out of the question. But this too has been foreseen. 
In the American camp there is an ingenious officer named 
Eufus Putnam. Before the war he was a millwright, now 
he is one of the best engmeers in the army. He has 
planned a novel way to build these forts. All these 
materials — hay, fascines, chandeliers — have been provided 
for this very contingency. The men now lay the chande- 
liers along the ground, marking the line of the works at 
proper distances. They soon have a double line of pickets, 
three feet apart, enclosing the gi'ound. The fascines are 
then piled within these pickets, and in one hour two forts, 
one on each high hill, formmg a sufficient protection 
against musketry, are thus completed. The woiking parties 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 255 

continue to deepen the ditches and strengthen tlie parapet 
until day breaks.^ 

While this is going on other parties have been busy- 
cutting down the adjoining orchards, and placing the trees 
in rows around the works, the branches outward, the 
more effectually to stop an enemy.^ And a still more novel 
method of carrymg destruction mto the enemy's ranks, 
should he venture to assault, has been devised. Barrels, 
tilled with earth, are placed all around the works as if to 
strengthen them, but they are really meant to be rolled 
down the steep hillside with tremendous velocity upon the 
heads of the stormmg columns, at the critical moment. 

So far everything has succeeded admirably, because 
nothing has been left to chance. Promptly at dawn three 
thousand fresh men cross over from Eoxbury to relieve 
their comrades. The men who have Ijuilt the forts resign 
them to these reinforcements, and, resuming their arms, 
march back to their camps without a scratch, but w^eary 
and hungry with their night of mcessant toil. 

But the master-spirit, where is he during the anxious 
hours of this night ? Shall we seek him at Cambridge, 
snatching a little fitful slumber amid the din of cannon 
and screaming of bombs ? Will he be content to wholly re- 
sign the work of to-night to his lieutenants ? Not he : his 
is the master mind, they are but the arm. 

^ Four smaller forts were also built the same night. 
^ This is called an abatis. 



256 AEOUND THE HUB. 

The weary wagoner, returning from his night of toil, sees 
a cloaked figure emerge from the obscurity before him. 
As it passes like the wind he holds for one instant the 
strong ' and well-known features of the head of the 
army. 

Now, Sir William Howe, if you keep Boston you must 
fight for it. The Yii-ginian whom you and your oflficers 
have ridiculed so long is thundering at your doors. 

For once Fortune, that fickle one, is on the side of 
America. Even Xature lends her aid to give victory to 
the sons of New England. For while they still labor in 
the trenches on the hill-tops in the clear sunshine of open 
day, the same thick haze overspreads everything below, 
so that theu^ enemies do not see them until the Yankee 
lads are ready. 

As the sun slowly disperses the mists Washington's 
picked battalions stand to then- arms, eagerly watching the 
town. Discovery is now certain. "N^liat will the British 
do? 

At length the drowsy sentinels espy the intrenchments 
looming m the distance. They rub theu' eyes. Astonish- 
ment and consternation are in every face. Turn out the 
guards ! Beat drums ! Blow bugles ! Up and arm ! Once 
more Young America dares Old England to the field. The 
unwelcome news is carried in haste to General Howe, who 
looks long and fixedly at the American forts, then shuts 
his glass, saying : — 



THE SPIRIT OF SEYEXTY-SIX. 257 

" Those rebels have done more m one night than my 
whole army would have done in months." 

He has hardly time to turn over in his mind what he 
will do to save his own and his king's credit, before a mes- 
senger comes from the admiral of the fleet to tell him 
that if the Americans are permitted to remain on those 
heights they will sink every one of his Majesty's ships in 
the harbor. And to prevent such disaster he, the admiral, 
must take them out of harm's way. 

Lieutenant-General Sir William Howe can always be 
depended on to fight. That is his reputation. That is now 
his determination. His council meets to consider which of 
two alternatives they will choose, — leave the town or storm 
the heights. In reality these alternatives are not sub- 
mitted to the council by General Howe, but by General 
AVashington. He is master of this situation. 

" Make your enemy do the thing he does not wish to 
do" is a maxim of war. General Howe's resolution 
exactly agrees with Washmgton's hopes. In truth, the 
chances are five to one against the British. Still, British 
honor is at stake. " What will they say of us in Eng- 
land?" is in Sir William's mind. 

The enemy's council decides upon a double attack, as 
at Bunker Hill. Five regiments are ordered on board 
transport vessels. These are destined to be landed near 
the Castle under cover of the broadsides of the ships of 
war. The grenadiers, light-mfantry, and other troops, 

17 



258 AROUND THE HUB. 

numbering, all told, perhaps two thousand more, are to land 
nearer the causeway. The order is not to let the men load 
at all, but rely on a rush with the bayonet. 

General Howe has also learned something at Bunker 
Hill. He will put one column where it will cut off re- 
treat if his assault succeeds. He will not let his troops 
keep up a harmless popping at the intrenchments while 
being picked off' at the rate of a company a minute. 

Earl Percy, who won his spurs at the Lexington races, 
is to command the assaulting columns. Brigadier Jones 
supports him. 

Again, as on the fatal I7th of June, all is hurry, all 
is bustle, in Boston. The inhabitants run to and fro. If 
patriots, they are flushed and elated at the near prospect 
of rescue from British tyranny ; for General Howe has 
ruled them with a rod of iron. If Tories, they are in de- 
spair at the thought of becoming exiles from their native 
land ; for the patriots detest them even more than they 
hate the soldiers. The soldiers, ordered out for the expe- 
dition, form in the streets in front of their barracks. They 
look pale and dejected. Here and there one, while nervously 
fixing and unfixing his bayonet, mutters to himself : — 

" Another Bunker Hill — or worse." 

As these troops march through the streets to the 
wharves, the Americans on the heights, thinking they are 
to attack them immediately, clap their hands, round after 
round. "Let them come!" is theory. Very different is 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. ' 259 

the spirit animating tlie men who to-day are to slied their 
blood for king or country. One would not think these 
spectators were so soon to close in deadly combat. 
. Upon this movement of the enemy the news flies from 
Dorchester to Eoxbury and from Eoxbury to Cambridge. 
Twenty thousand freemen spring to arms. Putnam, 
Greene, and Stark muster their veteran battalions. The 
surrounding hills are alive with spectators. 

At that moment Washington believes the decisive hour 
is about to strike. Turning to those soldiers nearest him 
he says : — 

" Eemember the 5th of March, and avenge your 
brethren ! " 

Those who are not near enough to hear eagerly ask 
what the General is saying. His words are passed along 
the lines of steel. 

" Rememljer the 5 th of March ! " 

Already excited by the scenes around them, — the gran- 
deur of the arena, the plaudits of the spectators, — this 
exhortation adds fuel to the flame. It becomes the battle- 
cry repeated from a thousand throats. Swords flash, 
standards wave, eyes sparkle with martial fire, while the 
noble determination to conquer or die burns brightly in 
every breast. 

But the struggle is not to be. Indeed, Sir William does 
not mean to attack before to-morrow. The Americans, 
standing to their arms in grim expectation, watch the tide 



260 ABOUND THE HUB. 

go down until late in the afternoon, when it become im- 
practicable for boats to approach the shore, as the flats 
here extend far out into the harbor. 

So the 5tli passes. Late in the day the transports 
with a floating battery drop down to the Castle. But 
there is no vigor about Sir William's preparations. The 
night Ijrings a hurricane of great violence, which dashes 
three of the vessels on the rocks of Governor's Island. 
The storm beats furiously down upon tlie Americans in 
their intrenchments, drenching them with I'ain and be- 
numbing them with cold. Still they hold their forts. At 
daybreak the stranded vessels are seen flying signals of 
distress. A heavy sea breaking on the shore forbids the 
idea of landing troops to-day ; moreover, the American 
defences are now so strong that it would be madness to 
attempt to storm them. 

The end is now felt to be near. A council of war de- 
cides upon the immediate evacuation of the town. The 
transfer of artillery, ammunition, and stores on board the 
shipping begins at once. The Tories, having first obtained 
leave to quit the town when the troops do, are packing up 
and wringing their hands. Very little of the accustomed 
hilarity is heard at the mess-tables. Household goods and 
merchandise of every sort are being hurried on board the 
transports. A general commotion and hubbub prevails, in 
the midst of which General Howe sends word to Wash- 
ington that if allowed to embark his army unmolested he 
will leave the town uninjured. 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 261 

Thus, in six days from the time the siege actually com- 
menced, the possession of the New England capital is 
secured to our arms. It is true the Americans have been 
lying before it for eleven months, not as besiegers but as 
watch-dogs. 

The remaining days of British occupation are to be 
signalized l)y disgraceful and wanton plundering by the 
British soldiery. By virtue of might the General takes 
possession of all the woollen and linen goods in the town. 
His soldiers break into and rob stores and dwellings at 
night, destroying wliat they cannot carry away. The 
streets are barricaded and scattered with crows-feet ^ to 
prevent a sudden rush of the rebels into town. 

This state of things continues until the 17tli, St. Pat- 
rick's day. And as this is tlie day dedicated to that saint 
who expelled all venomous creatures from Ireland, so shall 
it witness the expulsion of the army which for eleven 
months has devoured and laid our fair metropolis waste. 

For after several futile attempts to get away, the Ameri- 
cans, determining to hasten their movements, have suddenly 
unmasked a battery on Nook's or Foster's Hill,^ close to 
the water and holding entire command of Boston Neck 
and of the south part of the town. This notice to quit 
could no longer be neglected. This very step had been fear- 

^ An instrument with sharp iron prongs to hinder the movement 
of horsemen. 

^ Where the Lawrence Schoolhouse now is. 



262 AROUND THE HUB. 

fully dreaded by the king's troops. Accordingly, by four 
in the morning, the army of subjugation began to em- 
bark ; by ten it was all on board and under sail. The 
drums at Eoxbury immediately beat to arms. At noon 
the selectmen came out of the deserted and plundered 
town to say that not a single redcoat remained in it. 
General Ward immediately mounted his horse and put 
himself at the head of Colonel Learned's battalion. Gen- 
eral Putnam immediately embarked with a portion of his 
troops in the boats destined for the assault of the 5th. 

The Continentals, with General Ward at their head, 
marched over the Neck to the British lines, that had so 
long hurled defiance, unbarred the gates, and picking their 
way through the debris, — dismounted cannon, broken 
tumbrils, camp-rubbish, and litter, — pursued their way 
quietly into the town. 

The force under General Putnam landed at the foot of 
the Common. The two bodies together occupied all the 
important posts in the town, with Old Put as military 
commandant. 

It is the peaceful Sabbath day on which these stirring 
scenes are taking place. Washington's order of the day 
is : — 

" Parole St. Patrick, Countersign Boston." 

Once more we stand in the deserted Province House. 
Nothing of the king except his arms over the door. Even 
the brazen Indian on the cupola, levelling his arrow, seems 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY -SIX. 263 

hastening the flight of the foe. Once more we enter the 
hallowed precincts of the Old South to find it — shame on 
them for the deed ! — profaned by being turned into a rid- 
ing-school for the British cavalry. Again, standing before 
the stately Town-House, memory recalls the splendid pa- 
geant of the imperial troops, flushed with pride, advancing to 
an easy conquest. Now that pride is in the dust. Pacing 
by the silent graveyard where Winthrop lies in his tomb, 
the phantom of the old governor seems announcing : — 

" Behold my work ! In the downfall of every tyranny, 
see the fruit of the tree whicli I planted so long ago ! My 
struggle was for conscience, yours is for civil rights. Both 
have conquered. The Empire is dead. God save the 
Republic ! " 



INDEX. 



Adams, Samuel, sketch of, 75-So. 
Ancient and Honorable Artillery, 28, 

124-126. 
Andres, Sir Edmund, at Boston, 53 ; 

deposed, 59. 

Blackstone, Rev. William, at Boston, 
19, 20. 

Boston, settled, 19-25 ; why so named, 
22, 23 ; territorial divisions, 22 ; site 
of first church, 23 ; early houses, 25, 
26 ; streets, 27 : government, 27 ; 
customs of the people, 2S-44 ; dress, 
44,45 ; money, 46; household furni- 
ture, etc., 47-50 ; revolution of 16S9, 
52; first Episcopal services, 55; 
tavern signs, 80-83 ; militia in 1775, 
123, 124; bombarded, 247; recap- 
tured, 262. 

Boston Massacre, 94. 

Boston Neck, described, 62-65 ; a battle- 
ground, 241-244. 

Boston Port Bill, effect of, 95. 

Boston Stone, 126, 127. 

Bradstreet, Gov. Simon, reinstated in 
office, 58. 

Brattle Street Church, parsonage, 92 ; 
location of church, 11 8. 

Breed's Hill, fortified by mistake, 164 ; 
defences described, 170, 171. 

Brown, Enoch, site of his house, 64. 



Bunker Hill, note, 142 ; fortified, 162- 
168; battle described, 176-184. 

Burgoyne, Gen. John, sets fire to 
Charlestown, 176. 

Byles, Rev. Mather, anecdote of, 71, 72 ; 
his son, 142. 

Cadets, 124. 

Cambridge, camps and colleges, 192- 
202 ; Washington's headquarters, 
209, 210 ; Old Watertown road, 221- 
222 ; Charles River bridge, 223 ; 
defences, 228. 

Charlestown, settlement of, 19; its In- 
dian and English names, 19 ; why 
abandoned, 20 ; Neck described, 164 ; 
heights fortified, 164-168. 

Christ Church, a visit to, 139-142. 

Church, Benjamin, arrested, 221. 

Clinton, Gen. Sir Henry, at Bunker 
Hill, iSi. 

Common, the, in 1774, loi ; British 
camp on, 101-108 ; burials on, 115 ; 
military execution, 115. 

Copp's Hill, visited, 142-144; cannon- 
ade from, 176. 

Dock Square in 1775, 11S-120. 
Dorchester, settled, 20; heights of, 161 ; 

fortified, 250-263. 
Downer, Eliphalet's, duel, 226, 227. 



266 



INDEX. 



Dudley, Gov. Thomas, 23; his house at 
Ro.xbury, 26, 240. 

Everett, Gov. Edward, birthplace, note, 
252. 

Faneuil Hall, history of, 119-12-'. 

Fort Hill, why so named, 24 ; assault 

and capture of the fort, 56-60. 
Franklin, Benjamin, his birthplace, Si • 

residence, 127 ; at Cambridge, 217 
Frankland, Sir Charles, residence, 150. 

Gage, Gen. Thomas, sketch of, 83-S7 
Gates, Gen. Horatio, at Cambridge 210 
Gardner, Col. Thomas, residence and 

death of, 229. 
Granary Burying-Ground, 104. 
Gruchy, Capt., his underground arch, 

146, 147. 
Gunpowder Plot, celebration of, in Bos- 



ton, 131, I- 

Hancock, John, sketch of, 106, 107- 
mansion described, ,oS; commissions 
Gen. Wcshington, 203. 

Harvard College, old halls, 196-202 

Hastin-Ts, Jonathan, 196. 

Hollis Street Church. 71. 

Howe, Gen. Sir William, succeeds Ga-e 
86; at Bunker Hill, 177, ,So ; evac- 
uates Boston, 262. 

Hull. John, 144. 

Hutchinson, Ann, residence of, SS, S9 
Hutchinson, Gov. Thomas, 75;'resi 
dence, 152, 153. 

Indian names for Boston and contiguous 
places, 8. 

Indians, inhabiting Boston Bay 8- 
anecdotes illustrating their manners', 
9-iS. ' 

Inman's House, iSS. 

Johnson, Isaac, at Boston, 21. 



King's Chapel described, 89-91. 
King's Chapel Burial-Ground, origin of, 

21 ; noticed, 91, 92. 
Knox, Gen. Henry, his bookstore, 94 ; 

brings the cannon, 216. 
Knowlton, Col. Thomas, at Bunker 

Hill, 173. 

Lee, Gen. Charles, described, 218. 
Le.xington, expedition to frustrated, 
134-13S, 139 ; incidents of, 223-227 
Liberty Tree, 66, 67. 

Mather, Cotton, ,43; increase, 143; 

Samuel, 143. See 149, 150. 
Maverick, Samuel, at East Boston, 19. 

Nantasket, early settlement, 7iote, 20 
Nelson, Capt. John, heads the revolution 

of 16S9, 58, 59. 
North Battery, the, location of, 14S. 
North Square, sketched, 149-155. 

Old Court House, 92. 

Old Prison, 92. 

Old South, used for Episcopal worship, 

55 ; Tea-Party m.eeting in, 72-75 
Oliver, Lieut-Gov. Thomas, residence, 

222. 
Otis, James, 71. 

Paddock's Mall, 104 ; his guns carried 

off, 112-114. 
Parting Stone, The, 232. 
Patterson's Post, 190. 
Percy, Earl Hugh, headquarters, 10^ 

106. ^' 

Phips, Gov. Sir William, residence, 145, 

146. 
Pitcairn, Major John, 7wtc, 142, 154, 
Pomeroy, Gen. Seth, at Bunker Hill, 

174- 
Prescott, Col. William, at Bunker Hill 

164, 1S2. 
Prospect Hill, fortified, 1S7. 



IXDEX. 



267 



Province Charter, how obtained, 60 (read 

the chapter) ; 145. 
Province House, description of, 82, S\ 
Provincial Congress, described, 192. "^ 
Putnam, Gen. Israel, at Bunker Hill, 
164,171,172,173,179,183; fortifies' 
Prospect Hill, iSS, 1S9; commis- 
sioned, 204 ; selected to attack Bos- 
ton, 247. 
Putnam, Gen. Rufus, at Dorchester, 254. 

Revere, Paul, jf^ Green Dragon Tavern ; 

residence, 153. 
Roxbury, Meeting-House Hill, 232; 

camps and defences, 234-245.' 
Rumford, Count, 127. 

Second Church, The, 149, 150. 

Shiriey, Gov. William, mansion-house 
251. ' 

Stamp Act Riots, 67-70. 

Stark, Gen. John, at Bunker Hill, 16S, 

'72, 173 ; camp, iSS. 

Taverns, 63, 81-S3 ; Green Dragon, 
i3°-i 33 ; George Tavern burned, 244. 



Tea-Party, account of, 73-76. 

Thomas, Gen. John, quarters, 234, 235 ; 

leads the troops to Dorchester, 253. ' 
Thompson, David, at Thompson's 

Island, 20. 

Town-House (or Old State House), 93- 
96. 

Trumbull, Col. John, at Cambridge, 216. 

Walford, Thomas, at Charlestown, 19. 
Ward, Gen. Artemas, headquarters, 

194-196 ; commissioned, 204 ; at 

Ro.xbury, 230. 
Warren, Gen. Joseph, at Bunker Hill, 

174, 175; killed, 1S3; birthplace, 

240. 

Washington, Gen. George, takes com- 
mand, 2q6 ; headquarters, 209 ; 
quells a mutiny, 214; his wife, 216; 
advances his lines, 245 ; at Dorches- 
ter Heights, 259 ; order of the dav, 
262. 

Winter Hill, fortified, iSS. 

Winthrop, Gov. John, locates at Boston, 
22 ; his house, y^' 



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